Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard.
The carriage, which it has been mentioned drove up to the Six Bells, contained four persons — Jonathan Wild, his two janizaries, and his porter, Obadiah Lemon. As soon as they had got out, the vehicle was drawn up at the back of a tree near the cage. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. He was daring enough to have seized and carried him off before the whole congregation, but he preferred waiting.
Satisfied with his scrutiny, he returned, despatched Abraham and Obadiah to the northwest corner of the church, placed Quilt behind a buttress near the porch, and sheltered himself behind one of the mighty elms.
The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. Jonathan mixed with the group, and, sure of his prey, abided his time.
The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave.
Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head.
A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. But such was the violence of his grief — such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. That person advanced towards him.
“I have killed her,” cried Jack.
“You have,” rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible grasp on his shoulder. “You are my prisoner.”
Jack started to his feet; but before he could defend himself, his right arm was grasped by the Jew who had silently approached him.
“Hell-hounds!” he cried; “release me!”
Jonathan Wild seizing Jack Sheppard at his Mother's grave in Willesden Church yard
At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave.
“Wretch!” cried Jack. “Are you not content with the crimes you have committed — but you must carry your villany to this point. Look at the poor victim at your feet.”
Jonathan made no reply, but ordered his myrmidons to drag the prisoner along.
Thames, meanwhile, had drawn his sword, and was about to rush upon Jonathan; but he was withheld by Wood.
“Do not shed more blood,” cried the carpenter.
Groans and hoots were now raised by the crowd, and there was an evident disposition to rescue. A small brickbat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the face.
“You shall not pass,” cried several of the crowd.
“I knew his poor mother, and for her sake I’ll not see this done,” cried John Dump.
“Slip on the handcuffs,” cried the thief-taker. “And now let’s see who’ll dare to oppose me. I am Jonathan Wild. I have arrested him in the King’s name.”
A deep indignant groan followed.
“Let me see the earth thrown over her,” implored Jack; “and take me where you please.”
“No,” thundered Wild.
“Allow him that small grace,” cried Wood.
“No, I tell you,” rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd.
“My mother — my poor mother!” exclaimed Jack.
But, in spite of his outcries and resistance, he was dragged along by Jonathan and his janizaries.
At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. They even threatened to cut the traces and take off the wheels from the carriage. The Jew got in first. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants.
“Back!” he cried fiercely. “I am an officer in the execution of my duty. And he who opposes me in it shall feel the weight of my hand.”
He then sprung into the coach, the door of which was closed by Obadiah, who mounted the box.
“To Newgate,” cried Jonathan, putting his head out of the window.
A deep roar followed this order, and several missiles were launched at the vehicle, which was driven off at a furious pace.
And while her son was reconveyed to prison the body of the unfortunate Mrs. Sheppard was committed to the earth.
CHAPTER 27.
HOW JACK SHEPPARD WAS BROUGHT BACK TO NEWGATE.
Jack Sheppard’s escape from Newgate on the night of the 15th of October was not discovered till the following morning; for although the intelligence was brought by several parties to the Lodge in the course of the night, Austin, who was the officer in attendance, paid no attention to them.
After pursuing the fugitive as before related, Jonathan Wild returned to his own habitation, where he was occupied during the remainder of the night with Quilt Arnold and Obadiah Lemon in removing everything which, in case of a search, might tend to criminate him. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour’s repose before he began the villanies of another day.
He was aroused from his slumber, about six o’clock, by the return of Abraham Mendez, who not choosing to confess that Jack had eluded his vigilance, contended himself with stating that he had kept watch till daybreak, when he had carefully searched the field, and, finding no trace of him, had thought it better to return.
This information was received by Jonathan with a lowering brow. He comforted himself, however, with the certainty which he felt of capturing his prey on the Sunday. His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys.
Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. A glance satisfied Jonathan that the turnkey was not aware of the prisoner’s escape; and he resolved not to destroy what he considered a good jest, by a premature disclosure of it.
“You are out betimes this morning, Mr. Wild,” observed Austin, as he put on his coat, and adjusted his minor bob. “Something fresh on hand, I suppose?”
“I’m come to inquire after Jack Sheppard,” returned Jonathan.
“Don’t alarm yourself about him, Sir,” replied Austin. “He’s safe enough, I assure you.”
“I should like to satisfy myself on that score,” rejoined Wild, drily.
“So you shall, Sir,” replied Austin, who at this moment recollected,