Pack every thing you shall want with you, and, by seven
o'clock, I shall be here with your passport and all ready for a start."

With a beating brain, and in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, I threw
my clothes hither and thither into my trunk; Lady Jane and Emily both
flitting every instant before my imagination, and frequently an
irresolution to proceed stopping all my preparations for departure, I sat
down musing upon a chair, and half determined to stay where I was, coute
qui coute. Finally, the possibility of exposure in a trial, had its
weight. I continued my occupation till the last coat was folded, and the
lock turned, when I seated myself opposite my luggage, and waited
impatiently for my friend's return.

THE CONFESSIONS OF HARRY LORREQUER, v6

[By Charles James Lever (1806-1872)]

Dublin

MDCCCXXXIX.

Volume 6. (Chapter XLII-LV)

Contents:

CHAPTER XLII.
The Journey

CHAPTER XLIII.
The Journey

CHAPTER XLIV.
A Reminscence of the East

CHAPTER XLV.
A Day in the Phoenix

CHAPTER XLVI.
An Adventure in Canada

CHAPTER XLVII.
The Courier's Passport

CHAPTER XLVIII.
A Night in Strasbourg

CHAPTER XLIX.
A Surprise

CHAPTER L.
Jack Waller's Story

CHAPTER LI.
Munich

CHAPTER LII.
Inn at Munich

CHAPTER LIII.
The Ball

CHAPTER LIV.
A Discovery

CHAPTER LV.
Conclusion

CHAPTER XLII.

THE JOURNEY.

Trevanion came at last. He had obtained my passport, and engaged a
carriage to convey me about eight miles, where I should overtake the
diligence--such a mode of travelling being judged more likely to favour
my escape, by attracting less attention than posting. It was past ten
when I left the Rue St. Honore, having shaken hands with Trevanion for
the last time, and charged him with ten thousand soft messages for the
"friends" I left behind me.

When I arrived at the village of St. Jacques, the diligence had not come
up. To pass away the time, I ordered a little supper and a bottle of St.
Julien. Scarcely had I seated myself to my "cotelette," when the rapid
whirl of wheels was heard without, and a cab drew up suddenly at the
door. So naturally does the fugitive suspect pursuit, that my immediate
impression was, that I was followed. In this notion I was strengthened
by the tones of a cracked, discordant voice, asking in very peculiar
French if the "diligence had passed?" Being answered in the negative he
walked into the room where I was,