She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. Nevertheless, she could not prevent a rising excitement as the dawn of the new life drew near to her—a thrilling of the nerves, a secret and delicious exaltation above the common circumstances of existence. There! You are trying to take your hand away. Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track. On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed it expedient to do so.
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