mple. Some threw
the blame upon one, some upon another. The duchess was the only one at
court who knew it.

"When I left the duchess, I went to a house which Evans had found out
for me, and where she promised to acquaint me where my lord was. She got
thither some few minutes after me, and took me to the house of a poor
woman, directly opposite to the guard-house, where my lord was. She had
but one small room, up one pair of stairs, and a very small bed in it.
We threw ourselves upon the bed, that we might not be heard walking up
and down. She left us a bottle of wine and some bread, and Mrs. Mills
brought us some more in her pocket next day. We subsisted on this
provision from Thursday till Saturday night, when Mrs. Mills came and
conducted my lord to the Venetian ambassador's. We did not communicate
the affair to his excellency; but one of his servants concealed him in
his own room till Wednesday, on which day the ambassador's coach-and-six
was to go down to Dover to meet his brother. My lord put on a livery,
and went down in the retinue, without the least suspicion, to Dover,
where M. Michel (the ambassador's servant) hired a small vessel and
immediately set sail for Calais. The passage was so remarkably short
that the captain threw out this reflection, that the wind could not
have served better if his passengers had been flying for their lives,
little thinking it to be really the case.

"For my part," continues Lady Nithsdale, "I absconded to the house of a
very honest man in Drury Lane, where I remained till I was assured of my
lord's safe arrival on the Continent. I then wrote to the Duchess of
Buccleugh and entreated her to procure leave for me to go with safety
about my business. So far from granting my request, they were resolved
to secure me, if possible. After several debates it was decided that if
I remained concealed no further search should be made, but that if I
appeared either in England or Scotland I should be secured."

On first hearing of her husband's apprehension, she had thought it
prudent to conceal many important family papers and other valuables, and
having no person at hand with whom they could be safely entrusted, had
hid them underground, in a place known only to the gardener, in whom she
could entirely confide. This had proved a happy precaution, for, after
her departure, the house had been searched, and, as she expressed it,
"God only knows what might have transpired from those papers." In