Japhet, in Search of a Father

by Frederick Marryat

"He is well, I hope?"

"Quite well, I believe."

Mr Masterton then rose, went to an iron safe, and brought out a packet of papers, which he put into my hands. "You will read these with interest, Mr Neville. I am a party to the whole transaction, and must venture to advise you not to appear in England under your own name, until all is settled. Your uncle, I perceive, has begged the same."

"And I have assented, sir. I have taken a name instead of my real one."

"May I ask what it is?"

"I call myself Mr Japhet Newland."

"Well, it is singular, but perhaps as good as any other. I will take it down, in case I have to write to you. Your address is—"

"Piazza—Covent Garden."

Mr Masterton took my name and address, I took the papers, and then we both took leave of one another, with many expressions of pleasure and good-will.

I returned to the hotel, where I found Timothy waiting for me, with impatience. "Japhet," said he, "Lord Windermear has not yet left town. I have seen him, for I was called back after I left the house, by the footman, who ran after me—he will be here immediately."