She could not speak. Such was his fury, that if he had not been restrained by the presence of the two turnkeys, he might perhaps have anticipated the course of justice, by laying violent hands upon his victim. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. "Help—I'll hold him!" "Leave her," cried Jack, darting down stairs, amid a furious ringing of bells, —"the house is alarmed,—follow me!" "Curses light on you!" cried Blueskin, savagely; "since you won't be advised, take your fate. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. This horrible piece of deformity, who acted as drawer and cellarman, and was a constant butt to the small wits of the jail, was nicknamed the Black Dog of Newgate.
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