“ My dear Harriet, ” he scrawled rapidly, “J fear you will utterly cast me off, for I am now under arrest for being a dangerous rogue. Unless I can convince Mr. Mamble that I am indeed myself, nothing short of my instant incarceration in a dungeon will satisfy him. I beg your pardon for putting you to so much trouble, but pray tell Gaywood the whole, and desire him, with my compliments, to come to the Roundhouse and identify me. Ever yours, Sale. ”
He folded this missive, wrote Harriet’s name and direction upon it, and handed it to the constable with instructions to have it conveyed immediately to Laura Place. The constable said he would do this, and added apologetically that duty was duty, and he hoped, if he should have made a mistake, that it would not be held against him.
The Duke reassured him on this head, but Mr. Mamble exploded with wrath, and said that all this tomfoolery was not helping him to find his boy.
“Well, I will help you to find you, provided you go to look for him yourself, and do not send this objectionable fellow to bully him into saying what he wants him to,” said the Duke. “You may then ask him if I kidnapped him, and I hope you will be satisfied that I did not.”
“Where is he?” demanded Mr. Mamble.
“Are you going to go yourself?”
“Damn your impudence, yes, I am!”
“He is in Sydney Gardens, probably lost in one of the labyrinths. And don’t storm and roar at him, for it doesn’t answer at all!”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to treat my own son!” said Mr. Mamble angrily.
“That is precisely what you do need,” replied the Duke, his serene tones in striking contrast to Mr. Mamble’s explosive method of speech. “Presently I shall have a good deal to say to you on that score, but you had best find Tom first. I don’t know where you are putting up in Bath, but you may send this fellow to await you there. I’ve no wish for his company.”