Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. She had gladly lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to in front of the fine ladies and lords, as she was more interested in their clothing and fripperies than their faces. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting.
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