As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. While he was dragged along in the manner just described, Thames looked around to ascertain, if possible, where he was; for he did not put entire faith in Jonathan's threat of sending him to the round-house, and apprehensive of something even worse than imprisonment. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. His age was not far from fifty. Turning quickly round, in the hope of discovering the thief, he was no less surprised than distressed—for in spite of his faults, the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow—to perceive Jack Sheppard in custody. Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you. No other man should touch her; she was Hoddy's, body and soul, in this life and after. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet. His last actions were futile. .
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