“DEAR FRIEND: 

“This is to tell you that M. l’Abbe du Boise will soon be in London.  He will be the guest of M. Comte de Grammont.

“You do not know him.  Please call on him when he arrives.  Tell the Duchess of Hearts that he will want to see her.  Ask her to be ready to help him.  He goes to buy Dunkirk for the French king, and his success will mean good fortune for me.

“Your friend,

“LE BLANC.”

After reading the letter, I felt sure that the Abbe du Boise was George Hamilton.  I could hardly bring myself to believe that he would be so foolhardy as to visit Whitehall, though I knew the adventure was of a nature likely to appeal to his reckless disregard of consequences.  I knew also that, if successful, he would win the reward without which life had little value to him.

I was sure that Hamilton had fully weighed the danger of his perilous mission, and that he was deliberately staking his life on a last desperate chance to win fortune and Frances Jennings.

Though perhaps Lilly was a charlatan in many respects, he was to be trusted; still I did not feel that it was my place to impart George’s secret to him, though I had in mind a plan whereby he might be of great help to the Abbe du Boise in influencing King Charles.  The king consulted him secretly in many important affairs, and I was sure that if the good Doctor should be called in by his Majesty in the Dunkirk affair, the stars would tell a story in accord with our desires if we made it to Lilly’s interest.

However, all of that must wait for the Abbe du Boise.  Of one thing I was sure; I must tell Frances at once so that she might be paving the way to the king with her smiles.  It would be a disagreeable task, but I knew she would do it gladly, and I also knew that no woman could do it better.

While I had expressed my doubts to Frances concerning Hamilton’s emigration to Canada, I had not felt entirely sure there was nothing in it, and she, womanlike, taking the worst for granted, had accepted it as true.  But the coming of the Abbe du Boise changed everything, and when I saw her at her father’s house and told her of my suspicions, and showed her Le Blanc’s letter, she was so greatly alarmed that she said she would rather know that George had gone to Canada than to fear his return to England under the circumstances.

“The dastardly king will take his life if he comes,” she said.

“I admit the danger,” I answered, as hopefully as possible, “but I believe, if George comes, he will be able to take care of himself.”

“Danger!” she exclaimed.  “It is certain death!  George will find no mercy.”

“If he is caught,” I answered.  “But the letter from King Louis will convince King Charles that Hamilton is in Canada and will throw our jealous monarch off his guard.  Perhaps Hamilton will be safer than we suppose.  He speaks French like a Parisian, but, above all, he is cool, calm, and thoughtful in danger.  The London merchants will be far more dangerous than the king.”