"At all hazards then then you shall know the truth," replied the woollen-draper, in a tone of affected solicitude,—"but are you really prepared?"
"Quite—quite!" replied Winifred. "This suspense is worse than torture."
"I am almost afraid to utter it," said Kneebone; "but Thames Darrell is murdered."
"Murdered!" ejaculated Winifred.
"Basely and inhumanly murdered, by Jack Sheppard and Blueskin," continued Kneebone.
"Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. You must be misinformed, Mr. Kneebone. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured."
"Generous girl!" cried Jack from behind the skreen.
"I have proofs to the contrary," replied Kneebone. "The murder was committed after the robbery of my house by Sheppard and his accomplices. I did not choose to mention my knowledge of this fact to your worthy father; but you may rely on its correctness."
"You were right not to mention it to him," rejoined Winifred, "for he is in such a state of distress at the mysterious disappearance of Mrs. Sheppard, that I fear any further anxiety might prove fatal to him. And yet I know not—for the object of his visit here to-night was to serve Jack, who, if your statement is correct, which I cannot however for a moment believe, does not deserve his assistance."
"You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically, "but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to assist him."