s men to work searching for Hamilton. That being the
case, George was in danger, and should he be found by the king's secret
agents, who, I understood, were prowling all over England in the hope of
obtaining a reward, his life would not be worth a week's purchase.

George knew the risk he ran by remaining in England, but it was a part of
his reckless courage to take delight in it. Later on this recklessness of
disposition induced him to take a far greater risk. But of that in its
turn.

* * * * *

After supper, I found Hamilton in his bedroom, which was connected
by a hidden stairway with the room of the sinking floor. He wore his
Quaker's disguise, and on the table beside him were the Bible and a few
theological works dear to the hearts of his sect. I gave him the box,
telling him its history. The letter was brief and was written in cipher.

George translated it thus:--

"MASTER GEORGE HAMILTON:

"Monsieur le Grand wishes you to pay him a visit immediately.

"DE CATANET."

"You probably know Monsieur le Grand?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered, "and I shall visit him without delay."

"In Paris?" I asked, not quite sure that Monsieur le Grand was King Louis
of France, and not desiring to know certainly.

"In Paris," he answered, giving me to understand by his manner that he
must tell me nothing more definite of Le Grand's identity.

"Don't tell me what you know of the business this letter refers to, but
tell me whether you know," I said, hoping that George might at least tell
me it meant good fortune for him.

"I cannot even conjecture the business upon which I am wanted," he said,
"but I hope that it may give me an opportunity to be of service to the
writer."

Thus I was relieved of the disagreeable task of trying to induce George
to leave England, and was very thankful to escape it.

After a long silence, during which he read the one-line letter many
times, he asked:--

"Are you willing to bring Frances to me early to-morrow morning, if she
will come?"

"Doubtless I can," I answered. "Her willingness to come has been shown
all too plainly of late; but ought I bring her?"

"Yes. It will be the last time I shall ever see her unless good fortune
lies in this letter, and for that I hardly dare hope. You know that when
a man's luck has been against him for a long time, it kills the very
roots of hope and brings him almost to doubt certainty. Soon after I have
seen my friend