On the estate was a beautiful little rural cottage, over which the vine grew in rich luxuriance, and its garden shone bright with the varied hues of many flowers. Often when passing it Frank had wished it was the home of his mother, whose health had become impaired by lodging-house keeping, and she earnestly desired to retire from it. The place had been unoccupied for several years, and Helen, without saying anything to Frank, had urged the suit with her parents to offer it to Mrs. Heartwell as a residence. Mrs. Wendover and Helen called upon that lady; and the former was so much gratified with the deportment and conversation of Mrs. Heartwell, that she at once made the proposition and invited her down to visit the place.
The invitation was accepted, but before the day arrived Frank was accosted in the street by Shipkins, who had acted as Brady's assistant, and he delivered a message from his employer, earnestly entreating that the youth would come to him, as he had affairs of importance to communicate. Shipkins also added his own persuasions to go immediately; but Frank peremptorily declined, until he had consulted with his mother, who, on his return home, not only advised the interview, but also resolved to accompany him as vague thoughts rose in her mind that possibly she might learn something respecting her husband. On the succeeding forenoon they went to the prison, and were informed that Brady had contrived to make his escape during the night, and the officers were then out in search of him.
Protected from impressment by leave from the admiralty, both Ben and the negro could go where they pleased; and as the merchant had presented them with a liberal sum, they did not fail to avail themselves of the enjoyment of freedom. The Royal Circus (as the Surrey Theatre was then called) was a place of great celebrity for its melo-dramatic performances, and the "unrivalled" feats of horsemanship, enlivened as they always were by the quaint humour of a clever clown. Ben and Sambo had gone to visit a relation of the former somewhere in the neighbourhood of Walworth, and Frank had engaged to meet them at the notorious tea-gardens known by the sign of the Dog and Duck, in St. George's Fields, to accompany them to the Circus. The morning and evening promenades at the Dog and Duck were frequented by all the dashing bucks of the time, with their ladies; and amongst the company might often be seen _gentlemen_ riders, whose _modesty_ on the highway induced them to put crape over their faces as they uttered "Stand, and deliver"--in short, the place became the assemblage of the worst characters of society. Frank, habited in plain clothes (as his uniform would not have corresponded with the dress of his companions), was crossing the open fields to the place of appointment, when Shipkins again addressed him, and by assurances that he could inform him of the fate of his father, induced the young man to enter a respectable-looking house in the neighbourhood; but no sooner had they advanced into a room at the back of the premises, than Frank was seized by two stout men, a wet cloth bound over his mouth, and he was conveyed to a sort of dungeon in the rear of the building, where his clothes were stripped off, and a canvas shirt and trousers substituted in their stead; an iron band was then clasped round his body, and he found himself chained to the floor.