“Pshaw!” replied the stranger—­“you will see the Duke again this very night, or I am much mistaken.  As to Sir John Fenwick, I am a great deal more intimately his friend than the Duke is, and I may wish to keep him from rash acts, which he has neither courage nor skill to carry through, and will not dare to undertake, if he be not supported by others.  I am, in fact, doing Sir John himself a friendly act, for I know his purposes, which are both rash and wrong; and if I cannot. stop them by fair means, I must stop them by others.”

“In that,” replied Wilton, “you must act as you think fit.  I know nothing of Sir John Fenwick from my own personal observation; and therefore will not be made a tool of, to injure his reputation with others.”

“Well, well,” replied his companion—­“in those circumstances you are right; and, as they say in that beggarly assemblage of pettifogging rogues and traitors called the House of Commons, I must shape my motion in another way.  The manner in which I will beg you to deal with the Duke, is this.  Find an opportunity, before this night be over, of entreating him earnestly not to go to-morrow to the meeting at the Old King’s Head, in Leadenhall-street.  This is clear and specific, and at the same time you assail the character of no one.”

Wilton thought for a moment or two, and then replied, “I cannot even promise you absolutely to do this; but, if I can, I will.  If I see the Duke, and have the means of giving him the message, I will tell him that I received it from a stranger, who seemed anxious for his welfare.”

“That will do,” answered the other—­“that will do.  But you must tell him without Sir John Fenwick’s hearing you.  As to your seeing him again, you will, I suppose, take care of that; for surely the bow, and the smile, and the blush, that came across the house to you, were too marked an invitation to the box, for such a gallant and a courteous youth not to take advantage of at once.”

Wilton felt himself inclined to be a little angry at the familiarity with which his companion treated him, and which was certainly more than their acquaintance warranted.  Curiosity, however, is powerful to repress all feelings, that contend with it; and if ever curiosity was fully justifiable, it surely was that of Wilton to know his own early history.  Thus, although he might have felt inclined to quarrel with any other person who treated him so lightly, on the present occasion he smothered his anger, and merely replied that the stranger was mistaken in supposing that there was any such acquaintance between him and Lady Laura as to justify him in visiting her box.

Even while he was in the act of speaking, however, Lord Sherbrooke entered the lobby in haste, and advanced immediately towards him, saying, “Why, Wilton, I have been seeking you all over the house.  Where, in Fortune’s name, have you been?  The Duke and Lady Laura have both been inquiring after you most tenderly, and wondering that you have not been to see them in their box.”