e
began to cry at this, and kissed me, and swore he never would desert me:
as, indeed, my dear, I don't think he will; for we have been the best of
friends ever since, and he's the only man I ever could trust, I think.

"I don't know what put it into my head, but I had a scent of some
mischief in the wind; so stopped the coach a little before I got home,
and, turning into a tavern, begged Macshane to go before me to my
lodging, and see if the coast was clear: which he did; and came back to
me as pale as death, saying that the house was full of constables. The
cursed quarrel at the Tilt-yard had, I suppose, set the beaks upon me;
and a pretty sweep they made of it. Ah, my dear! five hundred pounds
in money, five suits of laced clothes, three periwigs, besides laced
shirts, swords, canes, and snuff-boxes; and all to go back to that
scoundrel Count.

"It was all over with me, I saw--no more being a gentleman for me; and
if I remained to be caught, only a choice between Tyburn and a file
of grenadiers. My love, under such circumstances, a gentleman can't be
particular, and must be prompt; the livery-stable was hard by where I
used to hire my coach to go to Court,--ha! ha!--and was known as a man
of substance. Thither I went immediately. 'Mr. Warmmash,' says I,
'my gallant friend here and I have a mind for a ride and a supper at
Twickenham, so you must lend us a pair of your best horses.' Which he
did in a twinkling, and off we rode.

"We did not go into the Park, but turned off and cantered smartly up
towards Kilburn; and, when we got into the country, galloped as if
the devil were at our heels. Bless you, my love, it was all done in
a minute: and the Ensign and I found ourselves regular knights of the
road, before we knew where we were almost. Only think of our finding you
and your new husband at the 'Three Rooks'! There's not a greater fence
than the landlady in all the country. It was she that put us on seizing
your husband, and introduced us to the other two gentlemen, whose names
I don't know any more than the dead."

"And what became of the horses?" said Mrs. Catherine to Mr. Brock, when
his tale was finished.

"Rips, madam," said he; "mere rips. We sold them at Stourbridge fair,
and got but thirteen guineas for the two."

"And--and--the Count, Max; where is he, Brock?" sighed she.

"Whew!" whistled Mr. Brock. "What, hankering after him still? My dear,
he is off to Flanders with his regiment; and, I make no do