When I found a spare hour, I hastened to see Lilly and came upon the
good Doctor among the stars, as usual. There was a letter for me from
Hamilton. It was short and in cipher:--
"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.
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