"How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone.
"Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce."
"That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples.
"Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me."
"We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. "If you get out o' that cage, I'll forgive you. Now, come along, gem'men, and I'll show you some precious sport."
The two janizaries followed him as far as the entrance to the inner room, when Abraham, raising his finger to his lips, and glancing significantly in the direction of the boys, to explain his intention to his companions, closed the door after them, and stole softly back again, planting himself near the recess.
For a few minutes all was silent. At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. They're gone into the next room."
Darrell returned no answer.
"Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation. "I did all for the best, as I'll explain."
"I won't reproach you, Jack," said the other, sternly. "I've done with you."