Lucy cried out, “There is a baby in the crypt! She has taken an infant!” Sebastian struck her across the jaw, sending her flying backwards. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. “I certainly knew him no better than you. “But I don’t see,” said Ann Veronica, “just how it fits the present situation. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. She exited solemnly, retrieving and carrying Michelle’s unconscious figure into the forest like a reluctant bridegroom. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard.
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