"Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. The light!—the light!" Astounded at his cries, Thames sprang towards him. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure.
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