"But you've done well to trust me.

I'll take off your irons--for I guess that's the reason why you want the hammer and file--on one condition." "What is it ?" "That you give 'em to me." "Readily." Taking Jack into a shed behind the workshop the smith in a short time freed him from his fetters.

He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale.
"I'm afraid, Jack, you'll come to the gallows," observed the smith; "buth if you do, I'll go to Tyburn to see you.

But I'll never part with your irons." Noticing the draggled condition Jack was in, he then fetched him a bucket of water, with which Jack cleansed himself as well as he could, and thanking the honest smith, who would take nothing for his trouble, left the shop.
Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf, overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he awakened much refreshed.

The swelling in his limbs had also subsided.