"I believe you;
though at the time of which I speak, I thought otherwise, for both my
last letters were re-enclosed to me in a blank cover, directed as if
by your hand, and brought by a servant, with a message that there was
no answer."
"Amazing!" exclaimed Somerset; "there must be some horrible
treachery! Can it be that some lurking foreign spy got amongst my
servants at Dantzic, and has been this traitor ever since? Oh,
Thaddeus!" cried he, abruptly interrupting himself, and grasping his
hand, "I would have flown to you, had it been to meet death, instead
of the greatest joy Heaven could bestow upon me. But why did you not
come in yourself? then no mistake could have happened! Oh, why did
you not come in?"
"Because I was uncertain of your sentiments. My first letter remained
unnoticed: and my heart, dear Somerset," added he, pressing his hand,
"would not stoop to solicitation."
"Solicitation!" exclaimed Pembroke, with warmth; "you have a right to
demand my life! But there is some deep villany in this affair;
nothing else could have carried it through. Oh, if anybody belonging
to me have dared to open these letters--Oh, Sobieski!" cried he,
interrupting himself, "how you must have despised me!"
"I was afflicted," returned Thaddeus, "that the man whom my family so
warmly loved could prove so unworthy; and afterwards, whenever I met
you in the streets, which I think was more than once or twice, I
confess that to pass you cut me to the heart.
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