While the change was being made, he obtained from the lady the address in
Soho Square where she was staying. The new horses were fresh; the
carriage rattled through Gunnersbury, past the turnpike at Hammersmith
and through Kensington, and soon after nine o'clock Desmond had the
satisfaction of pulling up at the door of Sheriff Soames' mansion in Soho
Square.
The door was already open, the rattle of wheels having brought lackeys
with lighted torches to welcome the belated travelers. Torches flamed in
the cressets on both sides of the entrance. The hall was filled with
servants and members of the household, and in the bustle that ensued when
the ladies in their brocades and hoops had entered the house, Desmond saw
an opportunity of slipping away. He felt that it was perhaps a little
ungracious to go without a word to the ladies; but he was tired; he was
unaccustomed to town society, and the service he had been able to render
seemed to him so slight that he was modestly eager to efface himself.
Leaving the carriage in the hands of one of the lackeys, with a few words
of explanation, he hastened on towards Holborn and the city.
Chapter 7: In which Colonel Clive suffers an unrecorded defeat; and
our hero finds food for reflection.
It was four o'clock, and Tuesday afternoon--the day before the Good
Intent was to sail from the Pool. Desmond was kicking his heels in his
inn, longing for the morrow. Even now he had not seen the vessel on which
he was to set forth in quest of his fortune.
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