At this point of our discourse I observed, without paying any attention to them, a little company of two men and a woman, walking across the Marsh in the direction of the Palace or the Church or perhaps the cottages. I looked at them without suspicion. Otherwise it would have been easy for Jenny to have jumped into a boat and to have escaped—for a time at least. But at this juncture we were singularly unfortunate. The house in Soho Square had not been burned; otherwise there would have been no further trouble. But you shall hear. I went back to the question of the liabilities. How could anyone be easy who owed £30,000?
'Since there is no help, Jenny, for the creditors, and since you are not responsible, why then, Jenny, you shall live with us, and it will be our pride and happiness to work for you.'
She laughed. No: that would not do either.
Meantime the people I had seen crossing the Marsh were drawing nearer. I now observed that the woman with the two men was none other than the girl I had seen at the Black Jack, sitting on the Captain's knee.
'Jenny,' I said, 'Quick! Here comes a woman who owes you no goodwill. Are you afraid of her? If so, let us take boat and escape across the river.'
'Is it one of the St. Giles's company? No, Will, I am not afraid of the woman, and you, I am sure, are not afraid of the men.'
They were within fifty feet of us. The woman broke away from the men and ran towards us. 'Here she is!' she cried. 'This is the woman. Make her prisoner. Quick! She will run away. I told you she would be here. Oh! Make her prisoner. Quick! Put on the handcuffs. Tie her hand and foot—she's a devil—bring out the chains. She is desperate. She will claw some of you with her nails. Once she bit off a man's ear. That was when she was an orange girl. Make her prisoner, good gentlemen, as quick as you can. Take care of her. She'll tear your eyes out for you.'
Jenny flushed scarlet and stood still. But she caught my hand. 'Don't leave me, Will,' she murmured. Leave her? But a terrible sinking of the heart warned me that something horrible and dreadful was falling upon us. What was it? 'I have felt it coming,' said Jenny. 'Come with me whatever they do.'
The woman was within six feet of us, standing on the Bank. A wild figure she was, bare-headed save for her hair which streamed out in the fresh breeze: she wore a black leather corset and a frock of some thick stuff with a woollen shawl or kerchief round her neck. Her red arms were bare to the elbow; she had a black eye and a disfiguring scratch across her cheek. Her bosom heaved; her lips trembled; her eyes were bright; her cheeks were flaming. I knew her now! She was the girl I had seen sitting on the Captain's knee. And I understood. This was more revenge.
The two men then approached. I knew them, too, alas! I had good reason to know them. They were officers of Bow Street Court.