Except he was the only idiot who would stay. “For me there is no second turn. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. “I do not know whether to wish you success or not. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton.
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