Part 51 (2/2)

SIR TRISTRAM.

That's Hatcham; I'll raise his wages.

THE DEAN.

Do I understand that I have been forcibly and illegally rescued?

SIR TRISTRAM.

That's it, old fellow.

THE DEAN.

Who has committed such a reprehensible act?

SIR TRISTRAM.

A woman who would have been a heroine in any age--Georgiana!

THE DEAN.

Georgiana, I am bound to overlook it, in a relative, but never let this occur again.

SIR TRISTRAM.

Tell him.

GEORGIANA.

You found out that that other woman's plan went lame, didn't you?

THE DEAN.

I discovered its inefficacy, after a prolonged period of ineffectual whistling.

GEORGIANA.

But we ascertained the road the genial constable was going to follow.

He was bound for the edge of the hill, up Pear Tree Lane, to watch the Races. Directly we knew this, Tris and I made for the Hill. Bless your soul, there were hundreds of my old friends there--welshers, pick-pockets, card-sharpers, all the lowest race-course cads in the kingdom. In a minute I was in the middle of 'em, as much at home as a d.u.c.h.ess in a Drawing-room.

SIR TRISTRAM.

A Queen in a Palace!

GEORGIANA.

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