Of those three months I need not say very much; especially of the beginning of them, since I received then, I think, more compliments than ever in my life before. My interviews had been very many; not with Mr. Chiffinch only, but with two other personages whose lives, they were pleased to say, I had saved.
His Majesty had laughed very heartily indeed at the tale of my adventures.
"Odds-fish!" said he. "We had all been done, but for you, Mr. Mallock. It was three or four days after, at the least, that I had intended returning; and by that time, no doubt, our friends would have had their ambushment complete. But when your man came, all a-sweat, into my very bed-chamber, telling me to fly for my life—well; there was no more to be said. There was a fire too at my lodgings that same morning;—and poor Sir Christopher's low ceilings all ruined with the smoke—but that would not have brought me, though I suppose we must give out that it did. No; Mr. Mallock, 'twas you, and no other. Odds-fish! I did not think I had such an accomplished liar in my service!"
His Royal Highness, too, was no less gracious; though he talked in a very different fashion.
To him there was no humour in the matter at all; 'twas all God's Providence; and I am not sure but that he was not more right than his brother; though indeed there are always two sides to a thing. His talk was less of myself, and more of the interests I had served; and there too he was right; for, as I have said, if there had been any mistake in the matter, good-bye to Catholic hopes.
My first interview with Mr. Chiffinch astonished me most. When he had finished paying compliments, I began on business.
"You will hardly catch Rumbald," said I, "unless you take him pretty soon. He too will be off to Holland, I think."
He shook his head, smiling.
"I am sorry not to be able to give you vengeance for that cleaver-throwing; but you must wait awhile."
"Wait?" cried I.