And the hunter home from the hill. The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termination of the Edgeware Road. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. “I was hoping to be able to secure a few minutes’ conversation with you, Miss Pellissier. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. “I’m not going to kill you, John. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees.
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