I have been (a strange thing for me) so very unwell since Sunday, that I have hardly been able to hold up my head—a bilious attack, I believe, and a very miserable sort of business. This, my dear friend, is the reason why I have not sooner written to you in reference to your noble letter, which I read in The Examiner, and for which—as it exalts me—I cannot, cannot thank you in words.
We had been following up the blow in Kinkel's[9] favour, and I was growing sanguine, in the hope of getting him out (having enlisted strong and active sympathy in his behalf), when the news came of his escape. Since then we have heard nothing of him. I rather incline to the opinion that the damnable powers that be connived at his escape, but know nothing. Whether he be retaken or whether he appear (as I am not without hope he may) in the streets of London, I shall be a party to no step whatever without consulting you; and if any scrap of intelligence concerning him shall reach me, it shall be yours immediately.
Horne wrote the article. I shall see him here to-night, and know how he will feel your sympathy and support. But I do not wait to see him before writing, lest you should think me slow to feel your generosity. We said at home when we read your letter, that it was like the opening of your whole munificent and bare heart.
Ever most affectionately yours,
My dear Landor.
The Hon. Mrs. Watson.
This is No. 2.
Devonshire Terrace, Monday Morning, Dec. 9th, 1850.
My dear Mrs. Watson,