In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. I—I hurt myself. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. “There wasn’t. I’ve thought that out, and you must make up your mind to it. Anna, do you not see that the Countess is sitting alone?” She rose, and flashed a quick smile upon Ennison behind her husband’s back. “I will go,” he said. "If you mean to accompany us, you may need it.
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