llen's acceptation of my addresses. A lover confined to
one, should not be too destructive, for fear of the consequences to the
remainder of the female world: compassion is ever due to the fair sex.

My toilet being concluded, Jonson and I repaired to the magistrate's. He
waited at the corner of the street, while I entered the house--

"'Twere vain to tell what shook the holy man, Who looked, not lovingly,
at that divan."

Having summoned to my aid the redoubted Mr.----, of mulberry-cheeked
recollection, we entered a hackney-coach, and drove to Jonson's
lodgings, Job mounting guard on the box.

"I think, Sir," said Mr.----, looking up at the man of two virtues,
"that I have had the pleasure of seeing that gentleman before."

"Very likely," said I; "he is a young man greatly about town."

When we had safely lodged Dawson (who seemed more collected, and even
courageous, than I had expected) in the coach, Job beckoned me into a
little parlour. I signed him a draught on my bankers for one hundred
pounds--though at that time it was like letting the last drop from my
veins--and faithfully promised, should Dawson's evidence procure the
desired end (of which, indeed, there was now no doubt), that the annuity
should be regularly paid, as he desired. We then took an affectionate
farewell of each other.

"Adieu, Sir!" said Job, "I depart into a new world--that of honest men!"

"If so," said I, "adieu, indeed!--for on this earth we shall never meet
again!"

We returned to--Street. As I was descending from the coach, a female,
wrapped from head to foot in a cloak, came eagerly up to me, and seized
me by the arm. "For God's sake," said she, in a low, hurried voice,
"come aside, and speak to me for a single moment." Consigning Dawson to
the sole charge of the officer, I did as I was desired. When we had got
some paces down the street, the female stopped. Though she held her veil
closely drawn over her face, her voice and air were not to be mistaken:
I knew her at once. "Glanville," said she, with great agitation,
"Sir Reginald Glanville! tell me, is he in real danger?" She stopped
short--she could say no more.

"I trust not!" said I, appearing not to recognize the speaker.

"I trust not!" she repeated, "is that all!" And then the passionate
feelings of her sex overcoming every other consideration, she seized me
by the hand, and said--"Oh, Mr. Pelham, for mercy's sake, tell me is he
in the power of that villain Thornton? yo