The
coincidence of this sudden and unaccountable silence with the sudden and
unaccountable Indian appointment of Francis; the extraordinary familiarity
of Junius, which had _not altogether escaped notice_, with the secrets of
one particular office, viz., the War Office; the sudden recollection, sure
to flash upon all who remembered Francis, if again he should become
revived into suspicion, that he had held a situation of trust in that
particular War Office; all these little recollections would begin to take
up their places in a connected story: _this_ and _that_, laid together,
would become clear as day-light; and to the keen eyes of still surviving
enemies--Horne Tooke, 'little Chamier,' Ellis, the Fitzroy, Russell, and
Murray houses--the whole progress and catastrophe of the scoundrelism, the
perfidy and the profits of the perfidy, would soon become as intelligible
as any tale of midnight burglary from without, in concert with a wicked
butler within, that was ever sifted by judge and jury at the Old Bailey,
or critically reviewed by Mr. John Ketch at Tyburn.
Francis was the man. Francis was the wicked butler within, whom Pharaoh
ought to have hanged, but whom he clothed in royal apparel, and mounted
upon a horse that carried him to a curule chair of honor. So far his
burglary prospered. But, as generally happens in such cases, this
prosperous crime subsequently avenged itself.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156