But my invention quickly supplied that want. There was a suit of clothes at one of our houses of rendezvous, which was left there for any of the gang to put on, upon particular occasions, as a disguise. This was a green livery, laced with pink-coloured galloon, and lined with the same; an edged hat, a pair of boots, and a whip. I went and dressed myself up in this livery, and went to my gentleman, to his house in Tower Street, and there I found him in health and well, just the same honest gentleman as ever. He stared at me when first I came to him, for I met him just at his door; I say, he stared at me, and seeing me bow and bow to him several times, with my laced hat under my arm, at last, not knowing me in the least, says he to me, “Dost thou want to speak with me, young man?” And I said, “Yes, sir; I believe your worship” (I had learnt some manners now) “does not know me. I am the poor boy Jacque.” He looked hard at me, and then recollecting me presently, says he, “Who—Colonel Jacque! Why, where hast thou been all this while? Why, ’tis five or six years since I saw you.” “’Tis above six years, and please your worship,” says I. “Well, and where hast thou been all this while?” says he. “I have been in the country, sir,” says I, “at service.” “Well, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “you give long credit; what’s the reason you han’t fetched your money all this while, nor the interest? Why, you will grow so rich in time by the interest of your money, you won’t know what to do with it.” To that I said nothing, but bowed and scraped a great many times. “Well, come, Colonel Jacque,” said he, “come in and I will give you your money, and the interest of it too.” I cringed and bowed, and told him I did not come to him for my money; for I had had a good place or two, and I did not want my money. “Well, Colonel Jacque,” said he, “and who do you live with?” “Sir Jonathan Loxham,” said I, “sir, in Somersetshire, and please your worship.” This was a name I had heard of, but knew nothing of any such gentleman, or of the country. “Well,” says he, “but won’t you have your money, Jacque?” “No, sir,” said I, “if your worship would please, for I have had a good place.” “If I would please to do what, prithee? Your money is ready, I tell thee.” “No, sir,” said I; “but I have had a good place.” “Well, and what dost thou mean, Jacque? I do not understand thee.” “Why, and please your worship, my old master, Sir Jonathan’s father, left me £30 when he died, and a suit of mourning, and——” “And what, prithee, Jacque? What, hast thou brought me more money?” For then he began to understand what I meant. “Yes, sir,” said I; “and your worship would be so good to take it, and put it all together. I have saved some, too, out of my wages.” “I told you, Jacque,” says he, “you would be rich. And how much hast thou saved? Come, let me see it.”