Lud! but I shall die of laughing....

Monsieur here thinks...

that 'twas that demmed letter which went to Paris...

and that an English gentleman lay scuffling on the floor and allowed a letter to be filched from him..." "Sir Percy!..." gasped Chauvelin, as an awful thought seemed suddenly to flash across his fevered brain.
"Lud, sir, you are astonishing!" said Sir Percy, taking a very much crumpled sheet of paper from the capacious pocket of his elegant caped coat, and holding it close to Chauvelin's horror-stricken gaze.

"THIS is the letter which I wrote at that table yonder in order to gain time and in order to fool you....