ons I desire to find at this
moment."

He paused for a second or two, and then, as though abandoning some
half-formed intention, he named a day for me to wait on him at his
official residence, and dismissed me.

I have now come to a portion of my history of which I scruple to follow
rigorously the details. I cannot speak of myself without introducing
facts, and names, and events which became known to me, some in strict
confidence, some under solemn pledges of secrecy, and some from the
accident of my position. I have practised neither disguise nor mystery
with my reader, nor do I desire to do so now. No false shame, as regards
myself, would induce me to stoop to this. But as I glance over the notes
and journals before me, as I read, at random, snatches of the
letters that litter my table, I half regret that I have been led into
revelations which I must necessarily leave incomplete, or rashly involve
myself in disclosures which I have no right to publish to the world.

So far as I can venture, however, I will dare to go. And to resume where
I left off: From the time I saw the minister at Hounslow, I never
beheld him again. A certain Mr. Addington--one of his secretaries, I
believe--received me when I called, and was the means of intercourse
between us. He was uniformly polite in his manner, but still cold and
distant with me; treating me with courtesy, but strenuously declining
all intimacy. For some weeks I continued to wait in expectancy of some
employment. I sat my weary hours in the antechamber, and walked the
lobbies with all the anxiety of a suitor; but to all appearance I was
utterly forgotten, and the service I had rendered ignored. At last (it
was about ten weeks after my interview), as I was proceeding one morning
to my accustomed haunt,--hope had almost deserted me, and I persisted,
more from habit than any prospect of success,--a servant, in the undress
livery of one of the departments of state, met me in the street.

"Mr. Carew, I believe?" said he, touching his hat. "I have been over
half the town this morning, sir, in search of you. You are wanted
immediately, sir, at the Foreign Office."

How my heart jumped at the words! What a new spring of hope burst up
within me! I questioned and cross-questioned the man, in the foolish
expectation that he could tell me anything I desired to know; and in
this eager pursuit of some clew to the future, I found myself ascending
the stairs to Mr. Addington's office.