Sir George looked at me, and by a sorrowful sign which he made, I apprehended he feared his unhappy friend’s head was disturbed.
For heaven’s sake, Sir, said I, be advised by my brother, who loves you; suffer him to conduct you to some place of security; when you have had a little repose we will both come to you, and concert such measures as shall be best for your safety.
He snatched my hand, Sir George is my true friend, said he, take care that you do not deceive me. I find myself giddy for want of rest. I am satisfied to be disposed of for to-night how you please. But give me your word of honour that I shall see you in the morning.
You shall indeed, Sir, I replied.
Depend upon it, answered Sir George, I’ll bring her to you myself.
He looked irresolute, and as if he knew not what to say; then turning to my brother, and leaning on his shoulder, Do, dear Bidulph, carry me to some place where I may lie down, for my spirits can hold out no longer.
Come, said Sir George, taking him under the arm, my chariot is at the door, I will bring you to a house where you may be quiet at home.
Mr Faulkland rivetted his eyes on me, as my brother led him out of the room, but he did not speak.
Sir George whispered me that he would return again. They went into the chariot together and drove away.
It was ten o’clock before my brother returned. He told me he had lodged Mr Faulkland safely at a friend’s house in whom he could confide, as he did not think his own, in case of a search, a place of security.