The duel, its fatal termination, the trial of the two peers and the three commoners concerned, had caused the greatest excitement in the town.  The prints and News Letters were full of them.  The three gentlemen in Newgate were almost as much crowded as the bishops in the Tower, or a highwayman before execution.  We were allowed to live in the Governor’s house, as hath been said, both before trial and after condemnation, waiting the King’s pleasure; nor was the real cause of the fatal quarrel known, so closely had my lord and the two other persons who knew it kept the secret, but every one imagined that the origin of the meeting was a gambling dispute.  Except fresh air, the prisoners had, upon payment, most things they could desire.  Interest was made that they should not mix with the vulgar convicts, whose ribald choruses and loud laughter and curses could be heard from their own part of the prison, where they and the miserable debtors were confined pell-mell.

CHAPTER II.

I come to the end of my captivity, but not of my trouble.

Among the company which came to visit the two officers was an old acquaintance of Harry Esmond; that gentleman of the Guards, namely, who had been so kind to Harry when Captain Westbury’s troop had been quartered at Castlewood more than seven years before.  Dick the Scholar was no longer Dick the Trooper now, but Captain Steele of Lucas’s Fusiliers, and secretary to my Lord Cutts, that famous officer of King William’s, the bravest and most beloved man of the English army.  The two jolly prisoners had been drinking with a party of friends (for our cellar and that of the keepers of Newgate, too, were supplied with endless hampers of Burgundy and Champagne that the friends of the Colonels sent in); and Harry, having no wish for their drink or their conversation, being too feeble in health for the one and too sad in spirits for the other, was sitting apart in his little room, reading such books as he had, one evening, when honest Colonel Westbury, flushed with liquor, and always good-humored in and out of his cups, came laughing into Harry’s closet and said, “Ho, young Killjoy! here’s a friend come to see thee; he’ll pray with thee, or he’ll drink with thee; or he’ll drink and pray turn about.  Dick, my Christian hero, here’s the little scholar of Castlewood.”

Dick came up and kissed Esmond on both cheeks, imparting a strong perfume of burnt sack along with his caress to the young man.

“What! is this the little man that used to talk Latin and fetch our bowls?  How tall thou art grown!  I protest I should have known thee anywhere.  And so you have turned ruffian and fighter; and wanted to measure swords with Mohun, did you?  I protest that Mohun said at the Guard dinner yesterday, where there was a pretty company of us, that the young fellow wanted to fight him, and was the better man of the two.”