"You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. I'm glad to recognise you."
"And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. "But why didn't you make yourself known at once?"
"I'd forgotten the office you hold in the Mint, Baptist," replied Rowland. "But clear the room of this rabble, if you have sufficient authority over them. I would speak with you."
"There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly.
"I understand," replied Rowland. "Give them what you please. I'll repay you."
"It's all right, pals," cried Baptist, in a loud tone; "the gentlemen and I have settled matters. No more scuffling."
"What's the meaning of all this?" demanded Sir Cecil. "How have you contrived to still these troubled waters?"
"I've chanced upon an old ally in the Master of the Mint," answered Rowland. "We may trust him," he added in a whisper; "he is a staunch friend of the good cause."
"Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master; "these gentlemen would be private. They've paid for their lodging. Where's Jonathan?"
Inquiries were instantly made after that individual, but he was nowhere to be found.