“Egad, but that is more practical than it sounds,” he replied, with a glance of admiration at my lady, as she stood so tall before us. “She has a cool head, Richard Carvel, and a long head, and—and I'm thinking you are to come out of this the best of all of us. You cannot get far off your course, my lad, with her at the helm.”
It was there his voice belied the jest in his words, and he left us with precipitation.
They lifted me out of my sheets (I was appalled to discover my weakness), and bundled me with tender care in a dozen shawls and blankets. My feet were thrust into two pairs of heavy woollen stockings, and Dorothy bound her own silk kerchief at my throat, whispering anxious questions the while. And when her mother and mammy went from the room, her arms flew around my neck in a passion of solicitude. Then she ran away to dress for the journey, and in a surprising short time was back again, with her muff and her heavy cloak, and bending over me to see if I gave any signs of failure.
Fifty and five minutes had been registered by the French clock, when the rattle of wheels and the clatter of hoofs sounded below, and Charles Fox panted up the stairs, muffled in a huge wrap-rascal. 'Twas he and Aunt Lucy carried me down to the street, Dorothy walking at my side, and propped me up in the padded corner of one of the two vehicles in waiting. This was an ample travelling-carriage with a lamp hanging from its top, by the light of which my lady tucked me in from head to foot, and then took her place next me. Aunt Lucy filled most of the seat opposite. The baggage was hoisted up behind, and Charles was about to slam the door, when a hackney-chaise turned the corner at a gallop and pulled up in the narrow street abreast, and the figure of my Lord Comyn suddenly leaped within the compass of the lanthorn's rays. He was dressed as for a ball, with only a thin rain-cloak over his shoulders, for the night was thick with mist. He threw at us a startled look that was a question.
“Jack, Richard is to be betrayed to-night by his uncle,” said Charles, shortly. “And I am taking them to Portsmouth to get them off for Lisbon.”
“Charles,” said his Lordship, sternly, “give me that greatcoat.”
It was just the one time that ever I saw uncertainty on Mr. Fox's face. He threw an uneasy glance into the chaise.
“I have brought money,” his Lordship went on rapidly; “'Twas that kept me, for I guessed at something of this kind. Give me the coat, I say.”
Mr. Fox wriggled out of it, and took the oiled cape in return.
“Thank you, Jack,” he said simply, and stepped into the carriage. “Who is to mend my waistcoats now?” he cried. “Faith, I shall treasure this against you, Richard. Good-by, my lad, and obey your rebel general. Alas! I must even ask your permission to salute her.”