That's well.
And, now, to find a messenger." "Mr.Kneebone's man is in the shop," said Rachel; "he'll take it." "Can I trust him ?" mused Jack.

"Yes; he'll suspect nothing.

Give him this letter, child, and bid him take it to the Lodge at Newgate without loss of time.

Blueskin will go with you,--for fear of a mistake." "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind." And she left the room with Blueskin, who very politely offered her his arm.
Meanwhile, the combat between Kneebone and Mrs.Maggot had been brought to a termination.

When the woollen-draper was nearly worn out, the Amazon watched her opportunity, and hitting him on the arm, disabled it.
"That's for Mrs.Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp.
"I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly.
"That's for Winifred," vociferated the Amazon, bringing the cudgel heavily upon his shoulder.
"Damnation!" cried Kneebone.
"That's for myself," rejoined Mrs.Maggot, dealing him a blow, which stretched him senseless on the floor.
"Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper.