r very anguish, he
stopped and said, 'Tell the Count Devereux that I was unable to tarry,
but that the letter requires no answer.'"

I consoled Desmarais for his misfortune, and hastened to my uncle with a
determination to reveal to him all that had occurred. Sir William was in
his dressing-room, and his gentleman was very busy in adorning his
wig. I entreated him to dismiss the _coiffeur_, and then, without much
preliminary detail, acquainted him with all that had passed between the
Abbe and myself.

The knight seemed startled when I came to the story of the sword. "'Gad,
Sir Count, what have you been doing?" said he; "know you not that this
may be a very ticklish matter? The King of France is a very great man,
to be sure,--a very great man,--and a very fine gentleman; but you will
please to remember that we are at war with his Majesty, and I cannot
guess how far the accepting such presents may be held treasonable."

And Sir William shook his head with a mournful significance. "Ah," cried
he, at last (when I had concluded my whole story), with a complacent
look, "I have not lived at court, and studied human nature, for nothing:
and I will wager my best full-bottom to a night-cap that the crafty old
fox is as much a Jacobite as he is a rogue! The letter would have proved
it, Sir; it would have proved it!"

"But what shall be done now?" said I; "will you suffer him to remain any
longer in the house?"

"Why," replied the knight, suddenly recollecting his reverence to the
fair sex, "he is your mother's guest, not mine; we must refer the matter
to her. But zauns, Sir, with all deference to her ladyship, we cannot
suffer our house to be a conspiracy-hatch as well as a popish chapel;
and to attempt your life too--the devil! Ods fish, boy, I will go to
the countess myself, if you will just let Nicholls finish my wig,--never
attend the ladies _en deshabille_,--always, with them, take care of
your person most, when you most want to display your mind;" and my
uncle ringing a little silver bell on his dressing-table, the sound
immediately brought Nicholls to his toilet.

Trusting the cause to the zeal of my uncle, whose hatred to the
ecclesiastic would, I knew, be an efficacious adjunct to his diplomatic
address, and not unwilling to avoid being myself the person to acquaint
my mother with the suspected delinquency of her favourite, I hastened
from the knight's apartment in search of Aubrey. He was not in the
house. His att