She had had two days of employment-seeking now. Charcoal. Put him in the stocks, and there let him sleep off his drunken fit. She could not help thinking of Capes. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. No; she'd never go back. On one side of the chapel there was a large grated window, but, as it looked upon the interior of the jail, Jack preferred following the course he had originally decided upon to making any attempt in this quarter.
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