Captain Jack whistled, and, in a moment, three others of his men came in and escorted Phillip to prison. As he was going out of the tavern door, who should he see standing by, but— Sir Andrew, who grinned like a fiend, and threw up his hands in Christian horror. He had not gone far down the street, ere he saw Augustus Fumbleton and Fanny riding out together. “This is worse than death,” he thought, and struggled hard to get free. But Captain Jack’s hand, like the grip of a vice, was upon his throat. CHAPTER XXX. THE COINERS’ CAVERN—SUBTERRANEAN ABODES—THE OATH—THE RELEASE—THE PROMISE. “I don’t much like this, Master Ned,” exclaimed Tim, shivering, “where can we be going to?” “Hold your tongue, you prating fool,” replied Ned, angrily, “your idle words will do more harm than good; do you hear me say anything?” “All right, Master, but I ain’t Wildfire Ned, you know; I ain’t made of cast-iron.” Tim would have added something else, but a violent jerking of the machine under his feet convinced him that they had reached the bottom. Before he had time to recover from the shock, he was seized by two or three powerful men, who bound his arms behind him, and led him away. They also blindfolded him, in spite of his groans for mercy, and, after dragging him along for about a hundred yards, they stopped, and, loosening the bandage from his eyes, thrust him under a vaulted arch. He was evidently far under ground, and the soil on which he stood was of a whitish colour, similar to that in a lead mine. The water was trickling down through the fissures of the rocks, and formed all around a stagnant pool. But what struck Ned most forcibly was the singular appearance of his assassins, for as such he deemed them now to be. They were all dressed in coarse baize coats, which reached to their knees, and were fastened in front by a huge clasp. They wore leather breeches, covered by large top boots, which confined the greatest part of their legs. Each of them had a couple of double-barrelled pistols stuck in his belt, and a rough beard flowed upon their breasts. “I say, Nat!” cried one of the ruffians, “what shall we do with this black-looking scoundrel, the servant?” “Why, leave him here, to be sure,” replied the tallest of the three, “and you shall guard him, it’s _your_ turn to be on duty to-night, and you may as well take it here, as stand at the tower; and to keep you from the cold, here’s my cloak, which will keep out the shivers, I’ll warrant ye.” This said he took the arm of his companion, and left Tim, with his guard, who began to pace up and down, without exchanging a single word with the prisoner. But to return to Ned. He shared no better fate than his servant, and before he had time to use his good sword, he was bound, and ordered to march forward. He was led through the midst of five, and then into a sixth spacious apartment, dug in the earth, and lighted by a dim lamp, hanging in the centre.