At the end of five minutes I went to her and said:  “Let me ask the duchess to excuse you for to-night, and in the morning I’ll meet you on Bowling Green stairs, at, say, seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be there,” she answered, smiling through her tears.

The next morning we took boat, and the tide running out, made good speed to the Bridge, hastened to the Old Swan, and found George in his printing shop awaiting us.  I remained in the old tapestried room, leaving Frances and George to say their farewells.  In the course of a few minutes he called me in.  He had donned his Quaker disguise, and on the floor near him was a small bundle of linen.  Frances was weeping, and George’s voice was choked with emotion.

“Well, at last, Baron Ned, you are to be rid of me,” he said, glancing toward the bundle at his feet.

“What are your plans of escape?” I asked.

“I shall work my way down to Sheerness, where I hope to find a boat for The Hague or the French coast.  Lilly, who seems to know everything, past, present and future, came last night to tell me that the king has fifty men seeking me in various parts of England, especially the seaports, and has offered a reward of two hundred pounds for me, dead or alive, preferably dead, I suppose.  If I go direct to Sheerness and try to take a boat, I am sure to be examined, and I’m not prepared for the ordeal.  So I intend to preach my way down the river and induce the king’s officers to send me abroad by force.”

“How are you off for money, George?” I asked.

“I borrowed ten guineas from Lilly,” he answered.

“I thought you might be in need of money, so I brought fifty guineas from the strong box under my bed,” I said, offering him the little bag of gold.

He hesitated, saying:  “If I take the money, you may never again see a farthing of it.”

“In that case, I’ll take my pay in abusing you,” I replied.

“Do you believe he would, Frances?” asked George, turning to my cousin.  Then continuing thoughtfully: 

“It is strange that I should have found such a friend at the bottom of a quarrel, all because I allowed him to abuse me.  Truly forbearance is a profitable virtue.  The ‘other cheek’ is the better of the two.”

Upon my insistence, he accepted the gold and gave me the ten guineas he had borrowed from Lilly, asking me to return them.

Frances was making an entire failure of her effort to hold herself in check, and George was having difficulty in restraining himself, so, to bring the interview to an end, he gave me his hand, saying:—­

“Thank you, Ned, and good-by.  I wish I could hope ever to see you again, but if Le Grand fails me, I shall go to the new world and lose myself in the Canadian woods.”

“No, no!” cried Frances, imploringly.

“I hope not,” began George, but he could not finish, so he took Frances in his arms for a moment, and when he released her, thrust us both out the door, saying:  “Please leave me at once.  If you do not, I fear I shall never let her go.  Take care of her, Ned.  Good-by!”