I received your’s, as your servant desired me to acquaint you, by ten
this morning. Horse and man were in a foam.
I instantly equipped myself, as if come off from a journey, and posted
away to the lady, intending to plead great affairs that I came not
before, in order to favour your antedate; and likewise to be in a
hurry, to have a pretence to hurry her ladyship, and to take no denial
for her giving a satisfactory return to your messenger. But, upon my
entering Mrs. Sinclair’s house, I found all in the greatest
consternation.
You must not, Sir, be surprised. It is a trouble to me to be the
relater of the bad news; but so it is—The lady is gone off! She was
missed but half an hour before I came.
Her waiting-maid is run away, or hitherto is not to be found: so that
they conclude it was by her connivance.
They had sent, before I came, to my honoured masters Mr. Belton, Mr.
Mowbray, and Mr. Belford. Mr. Tourville is out of town.
High words are passing between Madam Sinclair, and Madam Horton, and
Madam Martin; as also with Dorcas. And your servant William threatens
to hang or drown himself.
They have sent to know if they can hear of Mabell, the waiting-maid, at
her mother’s, who it seems lives in Chick-lane, West-Smithfield; and to
an uncle of her’s also, who keeps an alehouse at Cow-cross, had by, and
with whom she lived last.
Your messenger having just changed his horse, is come back: so I will
not detain him longer than to add, that I am, with great concern for
this misfortune, and thanks for your seasonable favour and kind
intentions towards me—I am sure this was not my fault—
Honoured Sir, Your most obliged, humble servant, PATRICK M’DONALD.