LETTER XXI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE
You may believe, my dear Miss Howe, that the circumstances of the noiseand outcry within the garden-door, on Monday last, gave me no smalluneasiness, to think that I was in the hands of a man, who could, bysuch vile premeditation, lay a snare to trick me out of myself, as Ihave so frequently called it.
Whenever he came in my sight, the thought of this gave me an indignationthat made his presence disgustful to me; and the more, as I fanciedI beheld in his face a triumph which reproached my weakness on thataccount; although perhaps it was only the same vivacity and placidnessthat generally sit upon his features.
I was resolved to task him upon this subject, the first time I couldhave patience to enter upon it with him. For, besides that it piqued meexcessively from the nature of the artifice, I expected shuffling andevasion, if he were guilty, that would have incensed me: and, if notconfessedly guilty, such unsatisfactory declarations as still would havekept my mind doubtful and uneasy; and would, upon every new offence thathe might give me, sharpen my disgust to me.
I have had the opportunity I waited for; and will lay before you theresult.
He was making his court to my good opinion in very polite terms, andwith great seriousness lamenting that he had lost it; declaring, that heknew not how he had deserved to do so; attributing to me an indifferenceto him, that seemed, to his infinite concern, hourly to increase, Andhe besought me to let him know my whole mind, that he might have anopportunity either to confess his faults and amend them, or clear hisconduct to my satisfaction, and thereby entitle himself to a greatershare of my confidence.
I answered him with quickness--Then, Mr. Lovelace, I will tell you onething with a frankness, that is, perhaps, more suitable to my characterthan to yours, [He hoped not, he said,] which gives me a very badopinion of you, as a designing, artful man.
I am all attention, Madam.
I never can think tolerably of you, while the noise and voice I heard atthe garden-door, which put me into the terror you took so much advantageof, remains unaccounted for. Tell me fairly, tell me candidly, thewhole of that circumstance; and of your dealings with that wicked JosephLeman; and, according to your explicitness in this particular, I shallform a judgment of your future professions.
I will, without reserve, my dearest life, said he, tell you the whole;and hope that my sincerity in the relation will atone for any thing youmay think wrong in the fact.
'I knew nothing, said he, of this man, this Leman, and should havescorned a resort to so low a method as bribing the servant of any familyto let me into the secrets of that family, if I had not detected himin attempting to corrupt a servant of mine, to inform him of all mymotions, of all my supposed intrigues, and, in short, of every actionof my private life, as well as of my circumstances and engagements; andthis for motives too obvious to be dwelt upon.
'My servant told me of his offers, and I ordered him, unknown to thefellow, to let me hear a conversation that was to pass between them.
'In the midst of it, and just as he had made an offer of money for aparticular piece of intelligence, promising more when procured, I brokein upon them, and by bluster, calling for a knife to cut off his ears(one of which I took hold of) in order to make a present of it, as Isaid, to his employers, I obliged him to tell me who they were.
'Your brother, Madam, and your uncle Antony, he named.
'It was not difficult, when I had given him my pardon on naming them,(after I had set before him the enormity of the task he had undertaken,and the honourableness of my intentions to your dear self,) to prevailupon him, by a larger reward, to serve me; since, at the same time, hemight preserve the favour of your uncle and brother, as I desired toknow nothing but what related to myself and to you, in order to guard usboth against the effects of an ill-will, which all his fellow-servants,as well as himself, as he acknowledged, thought undeserved.
'By this means, I own to you, Madam, I frequently turned his principalsabout upon a pivot of my own, unknown to themselves: and the fellow, whois always calling himself a plain man, and boasting of his conscience,was the easier, as I condescended frequently to assure him ofmy honourable views; and as he knew that the use I made of hisintelligence, in all likelihood, prevented fatal mischiefs.
'I was the more pleased with his services, as (let me acknowledgeto you, Madam) they procured to you, unknown to yourself, a safe anduninterrupted egress (which perhaps would not otherwise have beencontinued to you so long as it was) to the garden and wood-house: for heundertook, to them, to watch all your motions: and the more cheerfully,(for the fellow loves you,) as it kept off the curiosity of others.'*
* See Vol.II. Letter XXXVI.
So, my dear, it comes out, that I myself was obliged to this deepcontriver.
I sat in silent astonishment; and thus he went on.
'As to the circumstance, for which you think so hardly of me, I dofreely confess, that having a suspicion that you would revoke yourintention of getting away, and in that case apprehending that we shouldnot have the time together that was necessary for that purpose; I hadordered him to keep off every body he could keep off, and to be himselfwithin a view of the garden-door; for I was determined, if possible, toinduce you to adhere to your resolution.'--
But pray, Sir, interrupting him, how came you to apprehend that I shouldrevoke my intention? I had indeed deposited a letter to that purpose;but you had it not: and how, as I had reserved to myself the privilegeof a revocation, did you know, but I might have prevailed upon myfriends, and so have revoked upon good grounds?
'I will be very ingenuous, Madam--You had made me hope that if youchanged your mind, you would give me a meeting to apprize me of thereasons for it. I went to the loose bricks, and I saw the letter there:and as I knew your friends were immovably fixed in their schemes, Idoubted not but the letter was to revoke or suspend your resolution; andprobably to serve instead of a meeting too. I therefore let it lie, thatif you did revoke, you might be under the necessity of meeting me forthe sake of the expectation you had given me: and as I came prepared, Iwas resolved, pardon me, Madam, whatever were your intentions, that youshould not go back. Had I taken your letter I must have been determinedby the contents of it, for the present at least: but not havingreceived it, and you having reason to think I wanted not resolution ina situation so desperate, to make your friends a personal visit, Idepended upon the interview you had bid me hope for.'
Wicked wretch, said I; it is my grief, that I gave you opportunity totake so exact a measure of my weakness!--But would you have presumed tovisit the family, had I not met you?
Indeed I would. I had some friends in readiness, who were to haveaccompanied me to them. And had your father refused to give me audience,I would have taken my friends with me to Solmes.
And what did you intend to do to Mr. Solmes?
Not the least hurt, had the man been passive.
But had he not been passive, as you call it, what would you have done toMr. Solmes?
He was loth, he said to tell me--yet not the least hurt to his person.
I repeated my question.
If he must tell me, he only proposed to carry off the poor fellow, andto hide him for a month or two. And this he would have done, let whatwould have been the consequence.
Was ever such a wretch heard of!--I sighed from the bottom of my heart;but bid him proceed from the part I had interrupted him at.
'I ordered the fellow, as I told you, Madam, said he, to keep withinview of the garden-door: and if he found any parley between us, and anybody coming (before you could retreat undiscovered) whose coming mightbe attended with violent effects, he should cry out; and this not onlyin order to save himself from their suspicions of him, but to give mewarning to make off, and, if possible, to induce you (I own it, Madam)to go off with me, according to your own appointment. And I hope allcircumstances considered, and the danger I was in of losing you forever, that the acknowledgement of that contrivance, or if you had
notmet me, that upon Solmes, will not procure me your hatred: for, had theycome as I expected as well as you, what a despicable wretch had I been,could I have left you to the insults of a brother and other of yourfamily, whose mercy was cruelty when they had not the pretence withwhich this detected interview would have furnished them!'
What a wretch! said I.--But if, Sir, taking your own account of thisstrange matter to be fact, any body were coming, how happened it, that Isaw only that man Leman (I thought it was he) out at the door, and at adistance, look after us?
Very lucky! said he, putting his hand first in one pocket, then inanother--I hope I have not thrown it away--it is, perhaps, in the coatI had on yesterday--little did I think it would be necessary to beproduced--but I love to come to a demonstration whenever I can--I maybe giddy--I may be heedless. I am indeed--but no man, as to you, Madam,ever had a sincerer heart.
He then stepping to the parlour-door, called his servant to bring himthe coat he had on yesterday.
The servant did. And in the pocket, rumpled up as a paper he regardednot, he pulled out a letter, written by that Joseph, dated Monday night;in which 'he begs pardon for crying out so soon--says, That his fears ofbeing discovered to act on both sides, had made him take the rushing ofa little dog (that always follows him) through the phyllirea-hedge, forBetty's being at hand, or some of his masters: and that when he foundhis mistake, he opened the door by his own key (which the contrivingwretch confessed he had furnished him with) and inconsiderately ran outin a hurry, to have apprized him that his crying out was owing to hisfright only:' and he added, 'that they were upon the hunt for me, by thetime he returned.*
* See his Letter to Joseph Leman, Vol.III. No.III. towards the end, wherehe tells him, he would contrive for him a letter of this nature to copy.
I shook my head--Deep! deep! deep! said I, at the best!--O Mr. Lovelace!God forgive and reform you!--But you are, I see plainly, (upon the wholeof your own account,) a very artful, a very designing man.
Love, my dearest life, is ingenious. Night and day have I racked mystupid brain [O Sir, thought I, not stupid! 'Twere well perhaps if itwere] to contrive methods to prevent the sacrifice designed to be madeof you, and the mischief that must have ensued upon it: so little holdin your affections: such undeserved antipathy from your friends: so muchdanger of losing you for ever from both causes. I have not had for thewhole fortnight before last Monday, half an hour's rest at a time. AndI own to you, Madam, that I should never have forgiven myself, had Iomitted any contrivance or forethought that would have prevented yourreturn without me.
Again I blamed myself for meeting him: and justly; for there weremany chances to one, that I had not met him. And if I had not, all hisfortnight's contrivances, as to me, would have come to nothing; and,perhaps, I might nevertheless have escaped Solmes.
Yet, had he resolved to come to Harlowe-place with his friends, and beeninsulted, as he certainly would have been, what mischiefs might havefollowed!
But his resolutions to run away with and to hide the poor Solmes fora month or so, O my dear! what a wretch have I let run away with me,instead of Solmes!
I asked him, if he thought such enormities as these, such defiances ofthe laws of society, would have passed unpunished?
He had the assurance to say, with one of his usual gay airs, That heshould by this means have disappointed his enemies, and saved me from aforced marriage. He had no pleasure in such desperate pushes. Solmeshe would not have personally hurt. He must have fled his country, for atime at least: and, truly, if he had been obliged to do so, (as allhis hopes of my favour must have been at an end,) he would have had afellow-traveller of his own sex out of our family, whom I little thoughtof.
Was ever such a wretch!--To be sure he meant my brother!
And such, Sir, said I, in high resentment, are the uses you make of yourcorrupt intelligencer--
My corrupt intelligencer, Madam! interrupted he, He is to this hour yourbrother's as well as mine. By what I have ingenuously told you, you maysee who began this corruption. Let me assure you, Madam, that there aremany free things which I have been guilty of as reprisals, in which Iwould not have been the aggressor.
All that I shall further say on this head, Mr. Lovelace, is this: thatas this vile double-faced wretch has probably been the cause of greatmischief on both sides, and still continues, as you own, his wickedpractices, I think it would be but just, to have my friends apprizedwhat a creature he is whom some of them encourage.
What you please, Madam, as to that--my service, as well as yourbrother's is now almost over for him. The fellow has made a good hand ofit. He does not intend to stay long in his place. He is now actually intreaty for an inn, which will do his business for life. I can tellyou further, that he makes love to your sister's Betty: and that by myadvice. They will be married when he is established. An innkeeper'swife is every man's mistress; and I have a scheme in my head to set someengines at work to make her repent her saucy behaviour to you to thelast day of her life.
What a wicked schemer you are, Sir!--Who shall avenge upon you the stillgreater evils which you have been guilty of? I forgive Betty with allmy heart. She was not my servant; and but too probably, in what she did,obeyed the commands of her to whom she owed duty, better than I obeyedthose to whom I owed more.
No matter for that, the wretch said [To be sure, my dear, he mustdesign to make me afraid of him]: The decree was gone out--Betty mustsmart--smart too by an act of her own choice. He loved, he said, tomake bad people their own punishers.--Nay, Madam, excuse me; but if thefellow, if this Joseph, in your opinion, deserves punishment, mine isa complicated scheme; a man and his wife cannot well suffer separately,and it may come home to him too.
I had no patience with him. I told him so. I see, Sir, said I, I see,what a man I am with. Your rattle warns me of the snake.--And away Iflung: leaving him seemingly vexed, and in confusion.