ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. "She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice. Every moment or two he bent over his patient.
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