“Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Jack Kimble. " "Only two minutes more, Sir," intreated Edgeworth Bess, advancing towards him in such a manner as to screen Jack, who crept into the farthest part of the angle,—"only two minutes, and we've done. " "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. Everything was done in the most legal and imposing way, but the whole thing was a fraud. Jack Sheppard is now wholly in my hands.
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