“You expected my brother, madam?” he said “I am but now arrived in London. I went to his house. I met his servant at your door, who was bearing this letter for you. I thought I would bring it to your ladyship before going to him,”—and the stranger laid down a letter before Madam Bernstein.
“Are you”—gasped out the Baroness—“are you my nephew, that we supposed was——”
“Was killed—and is alive! I am George Warrington, madam and I ask his kinsfolk what have you done with my brother?”
“Look, George!” said the bewildered old lady “I expected him here to-night—that chair was set for him—I have been waiting for him, sir, till now—till I am quite faint—I don't like—I don't like being alone. Do stay an sup with me!”
“Pardon me, madam. Please God, my supper will be with Harry tonight!”
“Bring him back. Bring him back here on any conditions! It is but five hundred pounds! Here is the money, sir, if you need it!”
“I have no want, madam. I have money with me that can't be better employed than in my brother's service.”
“And you will bring him to me, sir! Say you will bring him to me!”
Mr. Warrington made a very stately bow for answer, and quitted the room, passing by the amazed domestics, and calling with an air of authority to Gumbo to follow him.
Had Mr. Harry received no letters from home? Master Harry had not opened all his letters the last day or two. Had he received no letter announcing his brother's escape from the French settlements and return to Virginia? Oh no! No such letter had come, else Master Harry certainly tell Gumbo. Quick, horses! Quick by Strand to Temple Bar! Here is the house of Captivity and the Deliverer come to the rescue!