"Well, well!" quoth the Squire, who was always easily mollified, "let's say no more about that at present. The main thing is to put down that insolent varlet, Peter. And, as you say you are determined to uphold my authority, it will be just as well that you should tell that to the household. So just step into my closet--you will find paper and ink on the table--and write me a handsome letter to Martin, expressive of your indignation at Peter, and your determination to give him a ribroasting at the earliest opportunity." At this the Juggler hemmed and coughed, said something about a whitlow in his finger, and would fain have postponed writing for the present. But the Squire was peremptory, and would listen to no excuse; so _nolens volens_, Johnny was obliged to walk into the closet and do his master's bidding. Having secured the door, he first of all took out of his waistcoat pocket a thimble and peas, and began trying to cheat himself, as was his wont whenever he found himself in a scrape. After his ideas were clarified by that ingenious process, he broke out into the following soliloquy:-- "Am I done for, or am I not? Gadzooks! I must say that it looks extremely like it. That old blockhead Bull is in a thorough passion, and I need never expect to talk him round. What an ass that fellow Peter is! If he had only waited a little, we could have managed the whole matter quite easily, but now he has put his foot in it, and must even take the consequences. But how am I to manage with Gray and Claretson? They are both committed as deeply as can be to Peter, and I suspect that he can prove it by their own letters. I wonder if I could persuade them to quit the Squire's service without making any noise about it! No--that they won't do; and the mischief is that they know a thing or two more than is convenient. Then what am I to write to that old pantaloon Martin, whom I have not spoken to for many a day? If I commit myself against Peter, Gray and Claretson will be down upon me to a dead certainty, and I shall have to account for all Mat-o'-the Mint's blunders, which would puzzle any conjurer living. If I don't, the whole household will suppose that I have been in regular league with Peter, and then I lose my place. They suspect me already; for no later than yesterday that stupid errand-boy of mine, Hips, came down with a tester towards buying a new hat for Hippopotamus; and, to say the truth, I have a letter from that same individual at this moment in my pocket. Couldn't I manage to temporise about Peter, and throw the blame on somebody else? Not a bad idea! There's that noodle Augustine with a back providentially fitted for the burden! If I can make him the scapegoat, I may still contrive to throw dust in the eyes of the Squire!" So saying, Johnny pocketed his thimble and peas, and straightway indited this doughty epistle to Martin.