The Polander Paid for his Lodging and waited in the Academy feeling sad for loneliness till Mr. Hanson came back from the Theatre and took him again to the Cutler’s; but the Sword was by no means Ready.
“’Tis strange,” cried the Governor, “that a Gentleman cannot get a Little Sword for himself in a whole Afternoon!”
“Well, sir,” said the Cutler, “pray do not be Impatient. I will send the Sword.”
They then left the shop and went towards St. Martin’s Lane; it was now Snowing and a Great Volume of Wind abroad.
When they reached my Lord’s Lodging they found him still in his Gown and Night Cap sitting over the fire and he looked like a sick man save for the great Light and Glitter in his Eyes.
He asked where his Brother was.
“At his Grace of Richmond’s,” said Mr. Hanson; “We were at the Play together and I have ordered the Broadsword which will come anon.”
They were talking without any Regard to the Polander who stood stiff in his New Coat, Longing to see Captain Vratz and to go to the horses he was to look after (and he wondered where the Stables might be as this was too Ill a House to have any). Now Mr. Hanson went up to my Lord in moved fashion.
“Think of the Consequences of this, Count Charles!” he said.