But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech.
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