, that the Prince de Moncontour had ridden
over to Newcome on the day when we met Lord Highgate, alias Mr. Harris,
before the bar of the hotel. Whilst we were engaged in the above
conversation a servant enters, and says, "My lord, Jenkins and the other
man is going back to Newcome in their cart," and is there anything
wanted?"
"It is the Heaven which sends him," says Florac, turning round to me with
a laugh; "make Jenkins to wait five minutes, Robert; I have to write to a
gentleman at the King's Arms." And so saying, Florac wrote a line which
he showed me, and having sealed the note, directed it to Mr. Harris at
the King's Arms. The cart, the note, and the assistant waiters departed
on their way to Newcome. Florac bade me go to rest with a clear
conscience. In truth, the warning was better given in that way than any
other, and a word from Florac was more likely to be effectual than an
expostulation from me. I had never thought of making it, perhaps; except
at the expressed desire of a lady whose counsel in all the difficult
circumstances of life I own I am disposed to take.
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