friend of Sir James--a young man, an engraver of
masquerade tickets and caricatures,--his name I believe is Hogarth.
Then, there's Mr. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was
lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of
Wales. And, lastly, there's Mr. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the
New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields."

"Figg's an old friend of mine," rejoined Jack; "he was my instructor in
the small sword and back sword exercise. I'm glad he's come to see me."

"You don't inquire what brings Sir James Thornhill here?" said Austin.

"Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly.

"No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business."

"On what business, in the name of wonder?" asked Sheppard.

"To paint your portrait," answered the jailer.

"My portrait!" echoed Jack.

"By desire of his Majesty," said the jailer, consequentially. "He has
heard of your wonderful escapes, and wishes to see what you're like.
There's a feather in your cap! No house-breaker was ever so highly
honoured before."

"And have my escapes really made so much noise as to reach the ear of
royalty?" mused Jack. "I have done nothing--nothing to what I _could_
do--to what I _will_ do!"

"You've done quite enough," rejoined Austin; "more than you'll ever do
again."

"And then to be taken thus, in these disgraceful bonds!" continued Jack,
"to be held up as a sight for ever!"

"Why, how else would you be taken?" exclaimed the jailer, with a coarse
laugh. "It's very well Mr. Wild allowed you to have your fine clothes
again, or you might have been taken in a still more disgraceful garb.
For my part, I think those shackles extremely becoming. But, here they
are."

Voices being heard at the door, Austin flew to open it, and admitted Mr.
Pitt, the governor, a tall pompous personage, who, in his turn, ushered
in four other individuals. The first of these, whom he addressed as Mr.
Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six,
with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and
sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour--an expression fully
borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. The
poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. With a strong
tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in
its display. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings
or conversation, never