" "Ah!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, glancing significantly at Charcam, who was a confidant in his Jacobite schemes; "is it the messenger from Orchard-Windham, from Sir William?" "No, Sir Rowland. "Do you think I'd take the trouble to announce him? These are persons of consequence, I tell you. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. . You are utterly baffling.
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