“And I hope he will, if it’s anything to Jonathan’s disadvantage,” muttered Mrs. Spurling, half aside.

“I’m surprised Mr. Wild hasn’t been to inquire after him to-day,” observed Langley; “it’s the first time he’s missed doing so since the trial.”

“He’s gone to Enfield after Blueskin, who has so long eluded his vigilance,” rejoined Austin.  “Quilt Arnold called this morning to say so.  Certain information, it seems, has been received from a female, that Blueskin would be at a flash-ken near the Chase at five o’clock to-day, and they’re all set out in the expectation of nabbing him.”

“Mr. Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell,” observed Shotbolt.

“I don’t exactly know the rights of that affair,” rejoined Griffin, with some curiosity.

“Nor any one else, I suspect,” answered Ireton, winking significantly.  “It’s a mysterious transaction altogether.  But, as much as is known is this:  Captain Darrell, who resides with Mr. Wood at Dollis Hill, was assaulted and half-killed by a party of ruffians, headed, he swore, by Mr. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard.  Mr. Wild, however, proved, on the evidence of his own servants, that he was at the Old Bailey at the time; and Sir Rowland proved that he was in Manchester.  So the charge was dismissed.  Another charge was then brought against them by the Captain, who accused them of kidnapping him when a boy, and placing him in the hands of a Dutch skipper, named Van Galgebrok, with instructions to throw him overboard, which was done, though he afterwards escaped.  But this accusation, for want of sufficient evidence, met with the same fate as the first, and Jonathan came off victorious.  It was thought, however, if the skipper could have been found, that the result of the case would have been materially different.  This was rather too much to expect; for we all know, if Mr. Wild wishes to keep a man out of the way, he’ll speedily find the means to do so.”

“Ay, ay,” cried the jailers, laughing.

“I could have given awkward evidence in that case, if I’d been so inclined,” said Mrs. Spurling, “ay and found Van Galgebrok too.  But I never betray an old customer.”

“Mr. Wild is a great man,” said the hangman, replenishing his pipe, “and we owe him much, and ought to support him.  Were any thing to happen to him, Newgate wouldn’t be what it is, nor Tyburn either.”

“Mr. Wild has given you some employment, Mr. Marvel,” remarked Shotbolt.

“A little, Sir,” replied the executioner, with a grim smile.

“Out of the twelve hundred subjects I’ve tucked up, I may safely place half to his account.  If ever he requires my services, he shall find I’m not ungrateful.  And though I say it that shouldn’t say it, no man can tie a better knot.  Mr. Wild, gentlemen, and the nubbin’ cheat.”