[Footnote 16: This accordingly he did.]

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XXIII--To MR. JOHN RICHMOND.

OLD ROME FOREST,[17] 30_th July_ 1786.

MY DEAR RICHMOND,--My hour is now come--you and I will never meet in
Britain more. I have orders, within three weeks at farthest, to repair
aboard the _Nancy_, Captain Smith, from Clyde to Jamaica, and to call at
Antigua. This, except to our friend Smith, whom God long preserve, is a
secret about Mauchline. Would you believe it? Armour has got a warrant
to throw me in jail till I find security for an enormous sum. This they
keep an entire secret, but I got it by a channel they little dream of;
and I am wandering from one friend's house to another, and, like a true
son of the Gospel, "have nowhere to lay my head." I know you will pour
an execration on her head, but spare the poor, ill-advised girl, for my
sake; though may all the furies that rend the injured, enraged lover's
bosom await her mother until her latest hour! I write in a moment of
rage, reflecting on my miserable situation--exiled, abandoned, forlorn.
I can write no more--let me hear from you by the return of the coach. I
will write you ere I go.--I am, dear Sir, yours, here and hereafter,
R. B.

[Footnote 17: In the neighbourhood of Kilmarnock. Here he had
deposited his travelling chest in the house of a relative.]

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