Bar. Is the Stranger with them?
Pet. Oh lud! no. He ran away. His Excellency wanted to thank him, and all that; but he was off; vanquished like a ghost.
Enter Solomon.
Sol. Oh! thou careless varlet! I disown you! What an accident might have happened! and how you have terrified his Excellency! But I beg pardon, [Bows.] His Right Honourable Excellency, the Count, requests your—
Bar. We come.
[Exit, with Mrs. Haller.
Char. Ha! ha! ha! Why, Mr. Solomon, you seem to have a hopeful pupil.
Sol. Ah! sirrah!
Char. But, Mr. Solomon, why were you not nimble enough to have saved his young lordship?
Sol. Not in time, my sweet Miss. Besides, mercy on us! I should have sunk like a lump of lead: and I happened to have a letter of consequence in my pocket, which would have been made totally illegible; a letter from Constantinople, written by Chevalier—What's his name? [Draws a letter from his pocket, and putting it up again directly, drops it. Peter takes it up, slily and unobserved.] It contains momentous matter, I assure you. The world will be astonished when it comes to light; and not a soul will suppose that old Solomon had a finger in the pye.