He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. ” Anna rose to her feet. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. Of Jack Sheppard or the assailants they could not discover a single trace. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate.
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