I spent two hours in going over the magnificent establishment, the owner himself shewing it me, and then I went back to dinner and called for my young gentleman.
“He started for Paris riding post,” replied the innkeeper, who was also the post-master, “five minutes after you left. He said he was going after some dispatches you had left at Paris.”
“If you don’t get him back I will ruin you with law-suits; you had no business to let him have a horse without my orders.”
“I will capture the little rascal, sir, before he has got to Amiens.”
He called a smart-looking postillion, who laughed when he heard what was wanted.
“I would catch him up,” said he, “even if he had four hours start. You shall have him here at six o’clock.”
“I will give you two louis.”
“I would catch him for that, though he were a very lark.”
He was in the saddle in five minutes, and by the rate at which he started I did not doubt his success. Nevertheless I could not enjoy my dinner. I felt so ashamed to have been taken in by a lad without any knowledge of the world. I lay down on a bed and slept till the postillion aroused me by coming in with the runaway, who looked half dead. I said nothing to him, but gave orders that he should be locked up in a good room, with a good bed to sleep on, and a good supper; and I told the landlord that I should hold him answerable for the lad as long as I was in his inn. The postillion had caught him up at the fifth post, just before Amiens, and as he was already quite tired out the little man surrendered like a lamb.
At day-break I summoned him before me, and asked him if he would come to London of his own free will or bound hand and foot.