“Devilish strange!” thought he, chuckling to himself; “queer business!  Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person’s brat stand the brunt for his own—­capital! ha! ha!  Won’t do, though.  He must be a sly fox to get out of the Mint without my knowledge.  I’ve a shrewd guess where he’s taken refuge; but I’ll ferret him out.  These bloods will pay well for his capture; if not, he’ll pay well to get out of their hands; so I’m safe either way—­ha! ha!  Blueskin,” he added aloud, and motioning that worthy, “follow me.”

Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry.  His progress, however, was checked by loud acclamations, announcing the arrival of the Master of the Mint and his train.

Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a “goodly portly man, and a corpulent,” whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living.  He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour.  It was easy to discover that he was a knave, but equally easy to perceive that he was a pleasant fellow; a combination of qualities by no means of rare occurrence.  So far as regards his attire, Baptist was not seen to advantage.  No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects.  His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat.  A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin.

The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements.  The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.  It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap.  The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard.  Though he walked by the side of the governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired by a broadbowled Dutch pipe.

Behind the illustrious personages just described marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges in their hats, quarterstaves, oaken cudgels, and links in their hands.  These were the Master’s body-guard.

Advancing towards the Master, and claiming an audience, which was instantly granted, Jonathan, without much circumlocution, related the sum of the strange story he had just learnt from Wood, omitting nothing except a few trifling particulars, which he thought it politic to keep back; and, with this view, he said not a word of there being any probability of capturing the fugitive, but, on the contrary, roundly asserted that his informant had witnessed that person’s escape.