“Unloose this young man,” said the captain, “and stand aside.”
Ned was immediately released from his bonds, and his guards took their places silently behind him.
The captain spent a few minutes in conference with some of his associates.
During this time young Ned had the leisure to perceive that he was mistaken in his conjectures respecting those whom he had taken for robbers; though not of a very different avocation, they could not literally be entitled to that appellation.
They were (as he plainly saw by the dye, which at first had escaped his enquiring eyes, and by the heaps of blanks all ready for impression), a set of men who defraud the revenue by circulating, to the detriment of the Mint, immense quantities of base coin—in fact, they were Coiners.
He knew not whether he had any right to be satisfied with the change; for, thought he, a robber will take your life rather than be detected, so would a coiner, rather than have his lawless proceedings come to light, have recourse to any means; but then, would they have forced him, as it were, to be an eye-witness of their crimes for the sole purpose of murdering him in cold blood?
These were his thoughts, which were diverted by an appeal from the captain—to answer his purposes.
“Who are you? What are you? and whence do you come?” asked the captain.
“My name is Warbeck. I am an officer in the king’s navy, and have come from Plymouth.”
“Well answered. Now, what brought you here?”