Guided now unreservedly by his cousin's counsel, Sir Walter set
out with him upon that journey to London. Captain King went with
them, as well as Sir Walter's body-servant, Cotterell, and a
Frenchman named Manourie, who had made his first appearance in
the Plymouth household on the previous day. Stukeley explained
the fellow as a gifted man of medicine, whom he had sent for to
cure him of a trivial but inconvenient ailment by which he was
afflicted.
Journeying by slow stages, as Sir Lewis had directed, they came
at last to Brentford. Sir Walter, had he followed his own bent,
would have journeyed more slowly still, for in a measure, as he
neared London, apprehensions of what might await him there grew
ever darker. He spoke of them to King, and the blunt Captain said
nothing to dispel them.
"You are being led like a sheep to the shambles," he declared,
"and you go like a sheep. You should have landed in France, where
you have friends. Even now it is not too late. A ship could be
procured . . ."
"And my honour could be sunk at sea," Sir Walter harshly
concluded, in reproof of such counsel.
But at the inn at Brentford he was sought out by a visitor, who
brought him the like advice in rather different terms.
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