"Indeed!" exclaimed the knight, in astonishment. "Is your father alive?"
"No," returned Thames; "he was assassinated while I was an infant."
"Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard.
"My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer."
"That's me," interposed Jonathan; "a thief-taker is always a murderer in the eyes of a thief. I'm almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your father in any way resembled you, my youngster. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!"
As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. Between the Jew and the attendant came Jack Sheppard; while a crowd of servants, attracted by the news, that the investigation of a robbery was going forward, lingered at the doorway in hopes of catching something of the proceedings.
When Jack was brought in, he cast a rapid glance around him, and perceiving Thames in the custody of Jonathan, instantly divined how matters stood. As he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to comprehend.
"Get it over quickly," said Trenchard, in a whisper to the thief-taker.
Jonathan nodded assent.
"What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on.