d
induce them to leave their outward door upon their bolt-latch, and be
curs'd to them.

Mabell deserves a pitch suit and a bonfire, rather than the lustring; and
as her clothes are returned, le the lady's be put to her others, to be
sent to her when it can be told whither--but not till I give the word
neither; for we must get the dear fugitive back again if possible.

I suppose that my stupid villain, who knew not such a goddess-shaped lady
with a mien so noble, from the awkward and bent-shouldered Mabell, has
been at Hampstead to see after her. And yet I hardly think she would go
thither. He ought to go through every street where bills for lodgings
are up, to inquire after a new-comer. The houses of such as deal in
women's matters, and tea, coffee, and such-like, are those to be inquired
at for her. If some tidings be not quickly heard of her, I would not
have either Dorcas, Will., or Mabell, appear in my sight, whatever their
superiors think fit to do.

This, though written in character, is a very long letter, considering it
is not a narrative one, or a journal of proceedings, like most of my
former; for such will unavoidably and naturally, as I may say, run into
length. But I have so used myself to write a great deal of late, that I
know not how to help it. Yet I must add to its length, in order to
explain myself on a hint I gave at the beginning of it; which was, that I
have another disappointment, besides this of Miss Harlowe's escape, to
bemoan.

And what dost thou think it is? Why, the old Peer, pox of his tough
constitution, (for that malady would have helped him on,) has made shift
by fire and brimstone, and the devil knows what, to force the gout to
quit the counterscarp of his stomach, just as it had collected all its
strength, in order to storm the citadel of his heart. In short, they
have, by the mere force of stink-pots, hand-granades, and pop-guns,
driven the slow-working pioneer quite out of the trunk into the
extremities; and there it lies nibbling and gnawing upon his great toe;
when I had a fair end of the distemper and the distempered.

But I, who could write to thee of laudanum, and the wet cloth, formerly,
yet let 8000L. a year slip through my fingers, when I had entered upon it
more than in imagination, [for I had begun to ask the stewards questions,
and to hear them talk of fines and renewals, and such sort of stuff,]
deserve to be mortified.

Thou canst not imagine how differentl