bawl loud enough a moment ago!"

"Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately
behind the ruffian. "Let me have a word with the cull!"

"Ay! ay!" cried several of the bystanders, "let Jonathan kimbaw the
cove. He's got the gift of the gab."

The crowd accordingly drew aside, and the individual, in whose behalf
the movement had been made immediately stepped forward. He was a young
man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable
either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for
the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. His
eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a
fox. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty
animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features
favoured such a comparison. The nose was long and sharp, the chin
pointed, the forehead broad and flat, and connected, without any
intervening hollow, with the eyelid; the teeth when displayed, seemed to
reach from ear to ear. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his
complexion warm and sanguine. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred
that he slept with his eyes open. But this might be merely a figurative
mode of describing his customary vigilance. Certain it was, that the
slightest sound aroused him. This astute personage was somewhat under
the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength
than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh.

It would seem, from the attention which he evidently bestowed upon the
hidden and complex machinery of the grand system of villany at work
around him, that his chief object in taking up his quarters in the Mint,