"Merely, my good friend," rejoined Smeaton, more gravely, "that I do not come over here to stir up any rebellion in the land, but simply, at the request of a very dear friend, to ascertain what are the real feelings of the country, and especially of the leading men therein. I have no dangerous papers about me; for I refused to be the bearer of any such. As yet I have communicated with no one but yourself, my object being simply to see with my own eyes, hear with my own ears, and communicate to some who are dear to me the result of my observations. Thus, although avowedly, as all my family have been, a friend of nay legitimate Prince, I have given no excuse for treating me as a rebel to existing authority. The faction that now rules the land can take hold of no word or act of mine. My father, it is true, was banished and proclaimed; but such is not the case with me; and I have a right to walk my native country at liberty."
Van Noost was evidently not convinced; and he contrived to detain his companion with arguments till the sun had actually set. Then, however, Smeaton rose, saying:
"Now, Van Noost, I must really go; but I shall see you to-morrow early, and we will talk farther."
"I will open the back door," said Van Noost, somewhat ruefully, "and let your Lordship out through the garden into the fields. The first turning on the right will take you straight up to the Dog and Duck; and then you cannot miss your way."
"No, no, Van Noost," replied Smeaton. "The open way and the straight, if you please, my good friend; unless you are afraid to have me seen coming out of your house. I am tired of these maskings."
"Heaven forbid that I should be afraid, noble Lord," cried Van Noost eagerly. "I would walk with your lordship to the Council Office itself, if you liked; and, indeed, I think I had better go part of the way with you."
Smeaton, however, declined all company; and, the door of the house and gate of the garden having been opened, he issued forth into Piccadilly, and took his way back towards St. James's street.
Van Noost looked after him for a moment or two, shook his head gravely, and then, once more locking the garden-gate, set to work in the twilight to put the leaden figures, which Smeaton had knocked down, upon their legs again.
CHAPTER IV.
It is curious, what mighty business is transacted in mean places. The destinies of the world, and the widest-spread enlightenment of the human mind, have gone forth from two of the smallest, dirtiest, and most pitiful streets in London, Downing Street and Paternoster Row. John Dalrymple, Earl of Stair, one of the most remarkable men of the age in which he lived, and afterwards celebrated for the extraordinary splendour both of his equipage and his table when ambassador at the court of France, was at this time dwelling in a small hired house in Golden Square. Nevertheless, he had been already marked out for high employments, by the clear-sighted eyes of the Whig ministry of that day; and it was without difficulty, though not until after two enquiries, that Smeaton discovered the house in which he lived. He paused before the door, and looked up in doubt; for the name of the Earl of Stair was so frequently in men's mouths, and his liveries were so well known in the neighbourhood, that the young traveller had expected to find a magnificent mansion, fitted to contain a numerous train of servants.