Wood, with a candle in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out, and darted down stairs. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. “Had the pleasure of dining with you at the ‘Ambassador’s’ one night, before the show, you know—last September I think it was. We have a very nice set of young people here too just at present, and you would soon make some friends. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. Suddenly he understood what had happened. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard.
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