'By my soul, I am late. I should have been with my Lord of Rochester half-an-hour since. The good Bishop will be swearing like a dragoon.'
He clapped his hat on his head, took up his cane, and marched to the door. His hand was on the knob, when he turned.
'By the way, Nick, I have something which belongs to you. 'Twas sent to my lodging in Paris by mistake. I brought it over, since I was sure to set eyes on you shortly.'
'Ah,' said Nick. 'Then you expected me, for all your scolding and bullying.'
'To speak the honest truth, Nick,' said Kelly, with a laugh, 'I have been expecting you all the last week.'
He went into his bedroom, and brought out the strong-box which Wogan had purchased in Paris.
'Sure there was no mistake,' said Wogan. 'I sent it to you as a reward for your discretion.'
'Oh, you did. Well, you wasted your money, for I have no need for it.'
'Nor I,' replied Wogan. 'But it has a very good lock, and will serve to hold your love-letters.'
Kelly laughed carelessly at the careless words, and laid the box aside upon his scrutore. Many a time in the months that followed Wogan saw it there, and the sight of it would waken him to a laugh, for he did not know that a man's liberty, his honour, his love, came shortly to be locked within its narrow space.