Enter Lofty.
Lofty. Is the coast clear? None but friends. I have followed you here with a trifling piece of intelligence: but it goes no farther; things are not yet ripe for a discovery. I have spirits working at a certain board: your affair at the treasury will be done in less than—a thousand years. Mum!
Miss Rich. Sooner, sir, I should hope.
Lofty. Why, yes, I believe it may, if it falls into proper hands, that know where to push and where to parry; that know how the land lies—eh, Honeywood?
Miss Rich. It is fallen into yours.
Lofty. Well, to keep you no longer in suspense, your thing is done. It is done, I say—that's all. I have just had assurances of Lord Neverout, that the claim has been examined, and found admissible. Quietus is the word, madam.
Honeyw. But how! his lordship has been at Newmarket these ten days.
Lofty. Indeed. Then Sir Gilbert Goose must have been most damnably mistaken. I had it of him.
Miss Rich. He! why Sir Gilbert and his family have been in the country this month.
Lofty. This month! It must certainly be so—Sir Gilbert's letter did come to me from Newmarket, so that he must have met his lordship there; and so it came about. I have this letter about me; I'll read it to you (Taking out a large bundle.) That's from Paoli of Corsica; that's from the Marquis of Squilachi. Have you a mind to see a letter from Count Poniatowski, now king of Poland—Honest Pon—— (Searching.) O, sir, what are you here too? I'll tell you what, honest friend, if you have not absolutely delivered my letter to Sir William Honeywood, you may return it. The thing will do without him.