ere was no friendship in this cursed, cold,
selfish country. He would leave it. He would trust no Englishman, great
or small. He would go to Germany, and make a campaign with the king; or
he would go home to Virginia, bury himself in the woods there, and
hunt all day; become his mother's factor and land-steward; marry Polly
Broadbent, or Fanny Mountain; turn regular tobacco-grower and farmer; do
anything, rather than remain amongst these English fine gentlemen. So he
arose with an outwardly cheerful countenance, but an angry spirit; and
at an early hour in the morning the faithful Gumbo was in attendance
in his master's chamber, having come from Bond Street, and brought Mr.
Harry's letters thence. "I wanted to bring some more clothes," honest
Gumbo said; "but Mr. Ruff, the landlord, he wouldn't let me bring no
more."

Harry did not care to look at the letters: he opened one, two, three;
they were all bills. He opened a fourth; it was from the landlord, to
say that he would allow no more of Mr. Warrington's things to go out of
the house,--that unless his bill was paid he should sell Mr. W.'s goods
and pay himself: and that his black man must go and sleep elsewhere. He
would hardly let Gumbo take his own clothes and portmanteau away. The
black said he had found refuge elsewhere--with some friends at Lord
Wrotham's house. "With Colonel Lambert's people," says Mr. Gumbo,
looking very hard at his master. "And Miss Hetty she fall down in a
faint, when she hear you taken up; and Mr. Lambert, he very good man,
and he say to me this morning, he say, 'Gumbo, you tell your master if
he want me he send to me, and I come to him.'"

Harry was touched when he heard that Hetty had been afflicted by his
misfortune. He did not believe Gumbo's story about her fainting; he
was accustomed to translate his black's language and to allow for
exaggeration. But when Gumbo spoke of the Colonel the young Virginian's
spirit was darkened again. "I send to Lambert" he thought, grinding his
teeth, "the man who insulted me, and flung my presents back in my face!
If I were starving I would not ask him for a crust!" And presently,
being dressed, Mr. Warrington called for his breakfast, and despatched
Gumbo with a brief note to Mr. Draper in the Temple, requiring that
gentleman's attendance.

"The note was as haughty as if he was writing to one of his negroes, and
not to a freeborn English gentleman," Draper said; whom indeed Harry had
always treated w