"So you did," replied the prize-fighter. "Sorry you're obliged to keep your word. Heard of your last escape. Hoped you'd not be retaken. Never sent for the shirt."
"I didn't want it," replied Jack; "but who are those gentlemen?"
"Friends of yours," replied Figg; "come to see you;—Sir James Thornhill, Mr. Hogarth, and Mr. Gay. They send you every good wish."
"Offer them my hearty thanks," replied Jack, waving his hand to the group, all of whom returned the salutation. "And now, farewell, Mr. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over."
Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prize-fighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward.
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Closing Scene.
Tyburn was now at hand. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. It was the gallows. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his demeanour except that he endeavoured to abstract himself from the surrounding scene, and bend his attention to the prayers which the ordinary was reciting.