"I am one-and-twenty," observed Jack.
"One-and-twenty, ah!" repeated Gay. "Well, I'm not far from the mark."
"He is certainly extremely youthful-looking and very slightly made," said Thornhill, who had been attentively studying Sheppard's countenance. "But I agree with Hogarth, that he is precisely the person to do what he has done. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. Can I be accommodated with a seat, Mr. Pitt?"
"Certainly, Sir James, certainly," replied the governor. "Get a chair, Austin."
While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped.
"Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cut-and-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. Wouldn't take my advice. Told you how it would be. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. Laughed at me, then. Laugh on the wrong side of your mouth, now."
"You're not come here to insult me, Mr. Figg?" said Jack, peevishly.
"Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. "Heard of your escapes. Everybody talking of you. Wished to see you. Old pupil. Capital swordsman. Shortly to be executed. Come to take leave. Trifle useful?" he added, slipping a few gold pieces into Jack's hand.
"You are very kind," said Jack, returning the money; "but I don't require assistance."
"Too proud, eh?" rejoined the prize-fighter. "Won't be under an obligation."