He gave no sign of jealousy when his elder brother made love to her before his eyes—­only to retire quickly, chilled by a coldness which he realised he could never thaw; or even when his Oxford chum, Halhed, his dearest friend and the colleague of his youthful pen, fell a victim to Elizabeth’s charms, and, in his innocence, begged Sheridan to plead his suit with her.  Halhed, too, had to retire from the hopeless suit; and Richard Sheridan, still silent, save, perhaps, for the eloquence of tell-tale eyes, held the field alone.

It was at this stage of our story that a grave element of danger entered Elizabeth Linley’s life, with the arrival at Bath of a Major Matthews, a handsome roue, with a large rent-roll from Welsh acres, and a dangerous reputation won in the lists of love.  At sight of the fair Nightingale in the Assembly Rooms this hero of many conquests was himself laid low.  He was frantically in love, and before many days had passed vowed that he would shoot himself if his charmer refused to smile on him.  Her coldness only fanned his ardour; and his persecution reached such a pitch that in her alarm she appealed to young Sheridan for help.

Nothing could have been more fortunate for the young lover than such an appeal and the necessity for it.  It was a tribute to her esteem, and to his budding manliness, which delighted him.  Moreover, it gave him many opportunities of meeting her, and talking over the situation with her.  At any cost this persecution must end; and the result of the conferences was that an excellent plan was evolved.  Richard was to worm himself into the confidence of the Major, and, in the character of friend and well-wisher, was to advise him, as a matter of diplomacy, to cease his attentions to Miss Linley for a time.  Meanwhile arrangements were to be made for the Nightingale’s escape to France, where she proposed to enter a convent until she was of age—­thus finding a refuge from the persecution to which her beauty constantly subjected her, and also from the scandal which the Long fiasco had given rise to, and which was still a great source of unhappiness to her.

The plot was cunningly planned and worked smoothly.  The Major was induced by subtle pleading to leave Miss Linley in peace for a time; and, to quote Miss Sheridan: 

“At length they fixed on an evening when Mr Linley, his eldest son and Miss Mary Linley were engaged at the concert (Miss Linley being excused on the plea of illness) to set out on their journey.  Sheridan brought a sedan-chair to Mr Linley’s house in the Crescent, in which he had Miss Linley conveyed to a post-chaise that was waiting for them on the London road.  A woman was in the chaise who had been hired to accompany them on this extraordinary elopement.”

For elopement it really was, although ostensibly Sheridan was merely playing the part of a friendly escort to a distressed lady, whatever deeper scheme, unknown to her, may have been in his mind.  After a brief stay in London a boat was taken to Dunkirk, and the journey resumed towards Lille.