He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. On his appearance, Jack levelled a pistol at his head. Could she go through with it? She must. He found a coach at the door, with the blinds carefully drawn up, and ascertained from a tall, ill-looking, though tawdrily-dressed fellow, who held his horse by the bridle, and whom he addressed as Quilt Arnold, that the two boys were safe inside, in the custody of Abraham Mendez, the dwarfish Jew. Mike chortled. It's fortunate we've no more Jack Sheppards, or I should stand but a poor chance.
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