Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. Kneebone, addressing his comely attendant; "put a few more plates on the table, and bring up whatever there is in the larder. . . For some time after he was locked up in this prison Jack continued in a very dejected state. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. It was—in connection with this man Hill.
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