"You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. “No, those are my brother’s dog tags. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. Thus died Jack Sheppard.
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