"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. Jack Sheppard's Escape from the New Prison. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. This was some satisfaction to the poor fellow, who was dreadfully frightened, as indeed he might well be, it being the opinion of the jailers and others who afterwards examined the place, that Jack had accomplished, single-handed, in a few hours, and, as far as it could be ascertained, with imperfect implements, what it would have taken half a dozen men several days, provided with proper tools, to effect. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him.
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