Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a memorial of his flight, to the jailor. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room.
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