“I'll go with you,” said Blueskin.
“Before either of you go, you will ask my permission,” said Jonathan, coolly.
“How!” exclaimed Sheppard. “Do you mean to say you will interfere—”
“I mean to say this,” interrupted Wild, with contemptuous calmness, “that I'll neither allow you to leave England nor the profession you've engaged in. I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be so,—which I doubt. You are my slave—and such you shall continue.'”
“Slave?” echoed Jack.
“Dare to disobey,” continued Jonathan: “neglect my orders, and I will hang you.”
Sheppard started to his feet.
“Hear me,” he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. “It is time you should know whom you have to deal with. Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke you have laid upon me. I will neither stir hand nor foot for you more. Attempt to molest me, and I split. You are more in my power than I am in yours. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day.”
“That he is,” added Blueskin, approvingly.
Jonathan smiled contemptuously.