“I rather hope we’ve settled him for life, Mount.”
Nobleman and parasite exchanged looks.
“How d’ye mean?”
Brayder hummed an air, and broke it to say, “He’s in for Don Juan at a gallop, that’s all.”
“The deuce! Has Bella got him?” Mountfalcon asked with eagerness.
Brayder handed my lord a letter. It was dated from the Sussex coast, signed “Richard,” and was worded thus:
“My beautiful Devil—!
“Since we’re both devils together, and have found each other out, come to me at once, or I shall be going somewhere in a hurry. Come, my bright hell-star! I ran away from you, and now I ask you to come to me! You have taught me how devils love, and I can’t do without you. Come an hour after you receive this.”
Mountfalcon turned over the letter to see if there was any more. “Complimentary love-epistle!” he remarked, and rising from his chair and striding about, muttered, “The dog! how infamously he treats his wife!”
“Very bad,” said Brayder.