“In the hurry of the moment I scarce knew what I did.  I bade the housekeeper put up every delicacy she had, in order to tempt the invalid, whom yet I hoped to bring back with me to our house.  When the carriage was ready I took the good woman with me to show us the exact way, which my coachman professed not to know; for, indeed, they were staying at but a poor kind of place at the back of Leicester Square, of which they had heard, as Clement told me afterwards, from one of the fishermen who had carried them across from the Dutch coast in their disguises as a Friesland peasant and his mother.  They had some jewels of value concealed round their persons; but their ready money was all spent before I saw them, and Clement had been unwilling to leave his mother, even for the time necessary to ascertain the best mode of disposing of the diamonds.  For, overcome with distress of mind and bodily fatigue, she had reached London only to take to her bed in a sort of low, nervous fever, in which her chief and only idea seemed to be that Clement was about to be taken from her to some prison or other; and if he were out of her sight, though but for a minute, she cried like a child, and could not be pacified or comforted.  The landlady was a kind, good woman, and though she but half understood the case, she was truly sorry for them, as foreigners, and the mother sick in a strange land.

“I sent her forwards to request permission for my entrance.  In a moment I saw Clement—­a tall, elegant young man, in a curious dress of coarse cloth, standing at the open door of a room, and evidently—­even before he accosted me—­striving to soothe the terrors of his mother inside.  I went towards him, and would have taken his hand, but he bent down and kissed mine.

“‘May I come in, madame?’ I asked, looking at the poor sick lady, lying in the dark, dingy bed, her head propped up on coarse and dirty pillows, and gazing with affrighted eyes at all that was going on.

“‘Clement!  Clement! come to me!’ she cried; and when he went to the bedside she turned on one side, and took his hand in both of hers, and began stroking it, and looking up in his face.  I could scarce keep back my tears.

“He stood there quite still, except that from time to time he spoke to her in a low tone.  At last I advanced into the room, so that I could talk to him, without renewing her alarm.  I asked for the doctor’s address; for I had heard that they had called in some one, at their landlady’s recommendation:  but I could hardly understand Clement’s broken English, and mispronunciation of our proper names, and was obliged to apply to the woman herself.  I could not say much to Clement, for his attention was perpetually needed by his mother, who never seemed to perceive that I was there.  But I told him not to fear, however long I might be away, for that I would return before night; and, bidding the woman take charge of all the heterogeneous things the housekeeper had put up, and leaving one