She wished Mr. Lovelace would come in.

Mr. Lovelace came in soon after; all lively, grateful, full of hopes, of duty, of love, to thank his charmer, and to congratulate with her upon the cure she had performed.  And then she told the story, with all its circumstances; and Dorcas, to point her lady’s fears, told us, that the servant was a sun-burnt fellow, and looked as if he had been at sea.

He was then, no doubt, Captain Singleton’s servant, and the next news she should hear, was, that the house was surrounded by a whole ship’s crew; the vessel lying no farther off, as she understood, than Rotherhithe.

Impossible, I said.  Such an attempt would not be ushered in by such a manner of inquiry.  And why may it not rather be a servant of your cousin Morden, with notice of his arrival, and of his design to attend you?

This surmise delighted her.  Her apprehensions went off, and she was at leisure to congratulate me upon my sudden recovery; which she did in the most obliging manner.

But we had not sat long together, when Dorcas again came fluttering up to tell us, that the footman, the very footman, was again at the door, and inquired, whether Mr. Lovelace and his lady, by name, had not lodgings in this house?  He asked, he told Dorcas, for no harm.  But his disavowing of harm, was a demonstration with my apprehensive fair-one, that harm was intended.  And as the fellow had not been answered by Dorcas, I proposed to go down to the street-parlour, and hear what he had to say.

I see your causeless terror, my dearest life, said I, and your impatience —­Will you be pleased to walk down—­and, without being observed, (for he shall come no farther than the parlour-door,) you may hear all that passes?

She consented.  We went down.  Dorcas bid the man come forward.  Well, friend, what is your business with Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace?

Bowing, scraping, I am sure you are the gentleman, Sir.  Why, Sir, my business is only to know if your honour be here, and to be spoken with; or if you shall be here for any time?

Whom came you from?

From a gentleman who ordered me to say, if I was made to tell, but not else, it was from a friend of Mr. John Harlowe, Mrs. Lovelace’s eldest uncle.

The dear creature was ready to sink upon this.  It was but of late that she had provided herself with salts.  She pulled them out.

Do you know anything of Colonel Morden, friend? said I.

No; I never heard of his name.

Of Captain Singleton?

No, Sir.  But the gentleman, my master, is a Captain too.

What is his name?

I don’t know if I should tell.

There can be no harm in telling the gentleman’s name, if you come upon a good account.

That I do; for my master told me so; and there is not an honester gentleman on the face of God’s yearth.—­His name is Captain Tomlinson, Sir.