Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second. This was Blueskin, who burst through the trees, and sword in hand assaulted the thief-taker. “I want to be your friend,” he said. “Then I don’t take this as final. "As like as life. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet.
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