"Stop him!" shouted Jonathan from the stair-head, "stop him! It's Jack Sheppard!" "Give way!" cried Jack fiercely. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. But I see now. The pair then descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn, passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild's door.
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