me, 'That he cannot rest either day or night for the mischiefs which he
fears he has been, or may still further be the means of doing.' He
wishes, 'if it please God, and if it please me, that he had never seen my
Honour's face.'

And what is the cause of his present concern, as to his own particular?
What, but 'the slights and contempts which he receives from every one of
the Harlowes; from those particularly, he says, whom he has endeavoured
to serve as faithfully as his engagements to me would let him serve them?
And I always made him believe, he tells me, (poor weak soul as he was
from his cradle!) that serving me, was serving both, in the long run.--
But this, and the death of his dear young lady, is a grief, he declares,
that he shall never claw off, were he to love to the age of Matthew
Salem; althoff, and howsomever, he is sure, that he shall not live a
month to an end: being strangely pined, and his stomach nothing like what
it was; and Mrs. Betty being also (now she has got his love) very cross
and slighting. But, thank his God for punishing her!--She is in a poor
way hersell.

'But the chief occasion of troubling my Honour now, is not his own griefs
only, althoff they are very great; but to prevent further mischiefs to
me; for he can assure me, that Colonel Morden has set out from them all,
with a full resolution to have his will of me; and he is well assured,
that he said, and swore to it, as how he was resolved that he would
either have my Honour's heart's-blood, or I should have his; or some
such-like sad threatenings: and that all the family rejoice in it, and
hope I shall come short home.

This is the substance of Joseph's letter; and I have one from Mowbray,
which has a hint to the same effect. And I recollect now that you were
very importunate with me to go to Madrid, rather than to France and
Italy, the last evening we passed together.

What I desire of you, is, by the first dispatch, to let me faithfully
know all that you know on this head.

I can't bear to be threatened, Jack. Nor shall any man, unquestioned,
give himself airs in my absence, if I know it, that shall make me look
mean in any body's eyes; that shall give friends pain for me; that shall
put them upon wishing me to change my intentions, or my plan, to avoid
him. Upon such despicable terms as these, think you that I could bear to
live?

But why, if such were his purpose, did he not let me know it before I
left England? Was h