which they had heard, as Clément 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 Clément 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 Clément 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 Clément
—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 forwards, 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.

"' Clément! Clément! 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 Clément's broken
English, and mispronunciation of our proper
names, and was obliged to apply to the
woman herself. I could not say much to
Clément, 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 of my men in the house,
one who could understand a few words of'
French, with directions that he was to hold
himself at Madame de Créquy's orders until
I sent or gave him fresh commands, I drove
off to the doctor's. What I wanted was his
permission to remove Madame de Créquy to
my own house, and to learn how it best
could be done; for I saw that every movement
in the room, every sound, except
Clément's voice, brought on a fresh access of
trembling and nervous agitation.

"The doctor was, I should think, a clever
man; but he had that kind of abrupt manner
which people get who have much to do with
the lower orders.

"I told him the story of his patient, the
interest I had in her, and the wish I
entertained of removing her to my own house.

"'It can't be done,' said he. 'Any change
will kill her.'

"'But it must be done,' I replied. 'And
it shall not kill her.'

"'Then I have nothing more to say,' said
he, turning away from the carriage-door, and
making as though he would go back into the
house.

"'Stop a moment. You must help me;
and, if you do, you shall have reason to be
glad, for I will give you fifty pounds down
with pleasure. If you won't do it, another
shall.'

"He looked at me, then (furtively) at the
carriage, hesitated, and then said: ' You do
not mind expense apparently. I suppose you
are a rich lady of quality. Such folks will
not stick at such trifles as the life or death of
a sick woman to get their own way. I
suppose I must e'en help you, for if I don't,
another will.'

"I did not mind what he said, so that he would
assist me. I was pretty sure that she was in
a state to require opiates; and I had not
forgotten Christopher Sly, you may be sure,
so I told him what I had in my head. That
in the dead of night,—the quiet time in
the streets,—she should be carried in a
hospital litter, softly and warmly covered over
from the Leicester Square lodging-house to
rooms that I would have in perfect readiness
for her. As I planned, so it was done. I let
Clément know, by a note, of my design. I
had all prepared at home, and we walked
about my house as though shod with velvet,
while the porter watched at the open door.
At last, through the darkness, I saw the
lanterns carried by my men, who were leading
the little procession. The litter looked
like a hearse; on one side walked the doctor,
on the other Clément: they came softly and
swiftly along. I could not try any farther
experiment; we dared not change her
clothes; she was laid in the bed in the
landlady's coarse night- gear, and covered
over warmly, and left in the shaded, scented
room, with a nurse and the doctor watching
by her, while I led Clément to the dressing-
room adjoining, in which I had had a bed
placed for him. Farther than that he would
not go; and there I had refreshments brought.
Meanwhile he had shown his gratitude by
every possible action (for we none of us dared
to speak): he had kneeled at my feet, and