272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw Jack Sheppard, stealing up stairs, followed by two men with crape on their faces. Teddy overtook her, a little out of breath, his innocent face flushed, his straw-colored hair disordered. Purney, the present ordinary of Newgate. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Jonathan, meanwhile, maintained profound secrecy as to his hopes of capturing the fugitive; and when Jack was brought back to Newgate on the Sunday evening, his arrival was wholly unexpected. "That young man had better watch his cough," said Spinster Prudence.
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