he said was a manor that lay convenient for him, and left Frog and me the rest to dispose of as we pleased. We were, overjoyed to think Lewis was contented with so little, not smelling what was at the bottom of the plot. There happened, indeed, an incident that gave us some disturbance: a cunning fellow, one of my servants, two days after, peeping through the keyhole, observed, that old Lewis had stole away our part of the map, and saw him fiddling and turning the map from one corner to the other, trying to join the two pieces together again: he was muttering something to himself, which we did not well hear, only these words, "'Tis great pity, 'tis great pity!" My servant added, that he believed this had some ill meaning. I told him he was a coxcomb, always pretending to be wiser than his companions: Lewis and I are good friends, he's an honest fellow, and I dare, say will stand to his bargain. The sequel of the story proved this fellow's suspicion to be too well grounded; for Lewis revealed our whole secret to the deceased lord Strutt[1], who, in reward to his treachery, and revenge to Frog and me, settled his whole estate upon the present Philip Baboon. Then we understood what he meant by piecing the map.
Mrs. Bull. And was you surprised at this? Had not lord Strutt reason to be angry? Would you have been contented to have been so used yourself.
J. Bull. Why truly, wife, it was not easily reconciled to the common methods; but then it was the fashion to do such things. I have read of your
- ↑ It is suspected that the French king intended to take the whole, and that he revealed the secret to the court of Spain, upon which the will was made in favour of his grandson.
