LETTER XXVI
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
I will now give thee the substance of the dialogue that passed betweenthe two women and the lady. Wonder not, that a perverse wife makes alistening husband. The event, however, as thou wilt find, justified theold observation, That listners seldom hear good of themselves. Consciousof their own demerits, if I may guess by myself, [There's ingenuousness,Jack!] and fearful of censure, they seldom find themselves disappointed.There is something of sense, after all in these proverbs, in thesephrases, in this wisdom of nations.
Mrs. Moore was to be the messenger, but Miss Rawlins began the dialogue.
Your SPOUSE, Madam,--[Devil!--only to fish for a negative or affirmativedeclaration.]
Cl. My spouse, Madam--
Miss R. Mr. Lovelace, Madam, avers that you are married to him; andbegs admittance, or your company in the dining-room, to talk upon thesubject of the letters he left with you.
Cl. He is a poor wicked wretch. Let me beg of you, Madam, to favour mewith your company as often as possible while he is hereabouts, and Iremain here.
Miss R. I shall with pleasure attend you, Madam: but, methinks, I couldwish you would see the gentleman, and hear what he has to say on thesubject of the letters.
Cl. My case is a hard, a very hard one--I am quite bewildered!-I knownot what to do!--I have not a friend in the world that can or will helpme! Yet had none but friends till I knew that man!
Miss R. The gentleman neither looks nor talks like a bad man.--Not avery bad man, as men go.
As men go! Poor Miss Rawlins, thought I; and dost thou know how men go?
Cl. O Madam, you know him not! He can put on the appearance of anangel of light; but has a black, a very black heart!
Poor I!--
Miss R. I could not have thought it, truly! But men are verydeceitful, now-a-days.
Now-a-days!--A fool!--Have not her history-books told her that they werealways so?
Mrs. Moore, sighing. I have found it so, I am sure, to my cost!--
Who knows but in her time poor goody Moore may have met with a Lovelace,or a Belford, or some such vile fellow? My little harum-scarum beautyknows not what strange histories every woman living, who has had theleast independence of will, could tell her, were such to be ascommunicative as she is. But here's the thing--I have given her causeenough of offence; but not enough to make her hold her tongue.
Cl. As to the letters he has left with me, I know not what to say tothem: but am resolved never to have any thing to say to him.
Miss R. If, Madam, I may be allowed to say so, I think you carrymatters very far.
Cl. Has he been making a bad cause a good one with you, Madam?--That hecan do with those who know him not. Indeed I heard him talking, thoughtnot what he said, and am indifferent about it.--But what account does hegive of himself?
I was pleased to hear this. To arrest, to stop her passion, thought I,in the height of its career, is a charming presage.
Then the busy Miss Rawlins fished on, to find out from her either aconfirmation or disavowal of my story--Was Lord M. my uncle? Did I courther at first with the allowance of her friends, her brother excepted?Had I a rencounter with that brother? Was she so persecuted in favour ofa very disagreeable man, one Solmes, as to induce her to throw herselfinto my protection?
None of these were denied. All the objections she could have made, werestifled, or kept in, by the considerations, (as she mentioned,) that sheshould stay there but a little while, and that her story was too long;but Miss Rawlins would not be thus easily answered.
Miss R. He says, Madam, that he could not prevail for marriage, till hehad consented, under a solemn oath, to separate beds, while your familyremained unreconciled.
Cl. O the wretch! What can be still in his head, to endeavour to passthese stories upon strangers?
So no direct denial, thought I.--Admirable!--All will do by-and-by.
Miss R. He has owned that an accidental fire had frightened you verymuch on Wednesday night--and that--and that--an accidental fire hadfrightened you--very much frightened you--last Wednesday night!
Then, after a short pause--In short, he owned, that he had taken someinnocent liberties, which might have led to a breach of the oath you hadimposed upon him; and that this was the cause of your displeasure.
I would have been glad to see how my charmer then looked.--To be sure shewas at a loss in her own mind, to justify herself for resenting so highlyan offence so trifling.--She hesitated--did not presently speak.--Whenshe did, she wished that she, (Miss Rawlins,) might never meet with anyman who would take such innocent liberties with her.
Miss Rawlins pushed further.
Your case, to be sure, Madam, is very particular: but if the hope of areconciliation with your own friends is made more distant by your leavinghim, give me leave to say, that 'tis pity--'tis pity--[I suppose themaiden then primm'd, fann'd, and blush'd--'tis pity] the oath cannot bedispensed with; especially as he owns he has not been so strict a liver.
I could have gone in and kissed the girl.
Cl. You have heard his story. Mine, as I told you before, is too long,and too melancholy: my disorder on seeing the wretch is too great; and mytime here is too short, for me to enter upon it. And if he has any endto serve by his own vindication, in which I shall not be a personalsufferer, let him make himself appear as white as an angel, with all myheart.
My love for her, and the excellent character I gave her, were thenpleaded.
Cl. Specious seducer!--Only tell me if I cannot get away from him bysome back way?
How my heart then went pit-a-pat, to speak in the female dialect.
Cl. Let me look out--[I heard the sash lifted up.]--Whither does thatpath lead? Is there no possibility of getting to a coach? Surely hemust deal with some fiend, or how could he have found me out? Cannot Isteal to some neighbouring house, where I may be concealed till I can getquite away? You are good people!--I have not been always among such!--O help me, help me, Ladies! [with a voice of impatience,] or I am ruined!
Then pausing, Is that the way to Hendon? [pointing, I suppose.] IsHendon a private place?--The Hampstead coach, I am told, will carrypassengers thither.
Mrs. Moore. I have an honest friend at Mill-Hill, [Devil fetch her!thought I,] where, if such be your determination, Madam, and if you thinkyourself in danger, you may be safe, I believe.
Cl. Any where, if I can but escape from this man! Whither does thatpath lead, out yonder?--What is that town on the right hand called?
Mrs. Moore. Highgate, Madam.
Miss R. On the side of the heath is a little village, called North-end.A kinswoman of mine lives there. But her house is small. I am not sureshe could accommodate such a lady.
Devil take her too! thought I,--I imagined that I had made myself abetter interest in these women. But the whole sex love plotting--andplotters too, Jack.
Cl. A barn, an outhouse, a garret, will be a palace to me, if it willbut afford me a refuge from this man!
Her senses, thought I, are much livelier than mine.--What a devil haveI done, that she should be so very implacable? I told thee, Belford, allI did: Was there any thing in it so very much amiss? Such prospects of afamily reconciliation before her too! To be sure she is a very sensiblelady!
She then espied my new servant walking under the window, and asked if hewere not one of mine?
Will. was on the look-out for old Grimes, [so is the fellow called whommy beloved has dispatched to Miss Howe.] And being told that the man shesaw was my servant; I see, said she, that there is no escaping, unlessyou, Madam, [to Miss Rawlins, I suppose,] can befriend me till I can getfarther. I have no doubt that the fellow is planted about the house towatch my steps. But the wicked wretch his master has no right tocontroul me. He shall not hinder me from going where I please. I willraise the town upon him, if he molests me. Dear Ladies, is there noback-door for me to get out at while you hold
him in talk?
Miss R. Give me leave to ask you, Madam, Is there no room to hope foraccommodation? Had you not better see him? He certainly loves youdearly: he is a fine gentleman; you may exasperate him, and make mattersmore unhappy for yourself.
Cl. O Mrs. Moore! O Miss Rawlins! you know not the man! I wish not tosee his face, nor to exchange another word with him as long as I live.
Mrs. Moore. I don't find, Miss Rawlins, that the gentleman hasmisrepresented any thing. You see, Madam, [to my Clarissa,] howrespectful he is; not to come in till permitted. He certainly loves youdearly. Pray, Madam, let him talk to you, as he wishes to do, on thesubject of his letters.
Very kind of Mrs. Moore!--Mrs. Moore, thought I, is a very good woman. Idid not curse her then.
Miss Rawlins said something; but so low that I could not hear what itwas. Thus it was answered.
Cl. I am greatly distressed! I know not what to do!--But, Mrs. Moore,be so good as to give his letters to him--here they are.--Be pleased totell him, that I wish him and Lady Betty and Miss Montague a happymeeting. He never can want excuses to them for what has happened, anymore than pretences to those he would delude. Tell him, that he hasruined me in the opinion of my own friends. I am for that reason theless solicitous how I appear to his.
Mrs. Moore then came to me; and I, being afraid that something would passmean time between the other two, which I should not like, took theletters, and entered the room, and found them retired into the closet; mybeloved whispering with an air of earnestness to Miss Rawlins, who wasall attention.
Her back was towards me; and Miss Rawlins, by pulling her sleeve, givingintimation of my being there--Can I have no retirement uninvaded, Sir,said she, with indignation, as if she were interrupted in some talk herheart was in?--What business have you here, or with me?--You have yourletters; have you not?
Lovel. I have, my dear; and let me beg of you to consider what you areabout. I every moment expect Captain Tomlinson here. Upon my soul, Ido. He has promised to keep from your uncle what has happened: but whatwill he think if he find you hold in this strange humour?
Cl. I will endeavour, Sir, to have patience with you for a moment ortwo, while I ask you a few questions before this lady, and before Mrs.Moore, [who just then came in,] both of whom you have prejudiced in yourfavour by your specious stories:--Will you say, Sir, that we are marriedtogether? Lay your hand upon your heart, and answer me, am I your weddedwife?
I am gone too far, thought I, to give up for such a push as this, homeone as it is.
My dearest soul! how can you put such a question? It is either for yourhonour or my own, that it should be doubted?--Surely, surely, Madam, youcannot have attended to the contents of Captain Tomlinson's letter.
She complained often of want of spirits throughout our whole contention,and of weakness of person and mind, from the fits she had been throwninto: but little reason had she for this complaint, as I thought, who wasable to hold me to it, as she did. I own that I was excessivelyconcerned for her several times.
You and I! Vilest of Men!--
My name is Lovelace, Madam--
Therefore it is that I call you the vilest of men. [Was this pardonable,Jack!]--You and I know the truth, the whole truth.--I want not to clearup my reputation with these gentlewomen:--that is already lost with everyone I had most reason to value: but let me have this new specimen of whatyou are capable of--say, wretch, (say, Lovelace, if thou hadst rather,)art thou really and truly my wedded husband?--Say; answer withouthesitation.
She trembled with impatient indignation; but had a wildness in hermanner, which I took some advantage of, in order to parry this cursedthrust. And a cursed thrust it was; since, had I positively averred it,she would never have believed any thing I said: and had I owned that Iwas not married, I had destroyed my own plot, as well with the women aswith her; and could have no pretence for pursuing her, or hindering herfrom going wheresoever she pleased. Not that I was ashamed to aver it,had it been consistent with policy. I would not have thee think me sucha milk-sop neither.
Lovel. My dearest love, how wildly you talk! What would you have meanswer? It is necessary that I should answer? May I not re-appeal thisto your own breast, as well as to Captain Tomlinson's treaty and letter?You know yourself how matters stand between us.--And Captain Tomlinson--
Cl. O wretch! Is this an answer to my question? Say, are we married,or are we not?
Lovel. What makes a marriage, we all know. If it be the union of twohearts, [there was a turn, Jack!] to my utmost grief, I must say that weare not; since now I see you hate me. If it be the completion ofmarriage, to my confusion and regret, I must own we are not. But, mydear, will you be pleased to consider what answer half a dozen peoplewhence you came, could give to your question? And do not now, in thedisorder of your mind, and the height of passion, bring into questionbefore these gentlewomen a point you have acknowledged before those whoknow us better.
I would have whispered her about the treaty with her uncle, and about thecontents of the Captain's letter; but, retreating, and with a rejectinghand, Keep thy distance, man, cried the dear insolent--to thine own heartI appeal, since thou evadest me thus pitifully!--I own no marriage withthee!--Bear witness, Ladies, I do not. And cease to torment me, cease tofollow me.--Surely, surely, faulty as I have been, I have not deserved tobe thus persecuted!--I resume, therefore, my former language: you have noright to pursue me: you know you have not: begone then, and leave me tomake the best of my hard lot. O my dear, cruel father! said she, in aviolent fit of grief [falling upon her knees, and clasping her upliftedhands together] thy heavy curse is completed upon thy devoted daughter!I am punished, dreadfully punished, by the very wretch in whom I hadplaced my wicked confidence!
By my soul, Belford, the little witch with her words, but more by hermanner, moved me! Wonder not then that her action, her grief, her tears,set the women into the like compassionate manifestations.
Had I not a cursed task of it?
The two women withdrew to the further end of the room, and whispered, astrange case! There is no phrensy here--I just heard said.
The charming creature threw her handkerchief over her head and neck,continuing kneeling, her back towards me, and her face hid upon a chair,and repeatedly sobbed with grief and passion.
I took this opportunity to step to the women to keep them steady.
You see, Ladies, [whispering,] what an unhappy man I am! You see what aspirit this dear creature has!--All, all owing to her implacablerelations, and to her father's curse.--A curse upon them all! they haveturned the head of the most charming woman in the world!
Ah! Sir, Sir, replied Miss Rawlins, whatever be the fault of herrelations, all is not as it should be between you and her. 'Tis plainshe does not think herself married: 'tis plain she does not: and if youhave any value for the poor lady, and would not totally deprive her ofher senses, you had better withdraw, and leave to time and coolerconsideration the event in your favour.
She will compel me to this at last, I fear, Miss Rawlins; I fear shewill; and then we are both undone: for I cannot live without her; sheknows it too well: and she has not a friend who will look upon her: thisalso she knows. Our marriage, when her uncle's friend comes, will beproved incontestably. But I am ashamed to think I have given her roomto believe it no marriage: that's what she harps upon!
Well, 'tis a strange case, a very strange one, said Miss Rawlins; and wasgoing to say further, when the angry beauty, coming towards the door,said, Mrs. Moore, I beg a word with you. And they both stepped into thedining-room.
I saw her just before put a parcel into her pocket; and followed themout, for fear she should slip away; and stepping to the stairs, that shemight not go by me, Will., cried I, aloud [though I knew he was not near]--Pray, child, to a maid, who answered, call either of my servants to me.
She then came up to me with a wrathful countenance: do you call yourservant, Sir, to hinder me, between you, from going where I
please?
Don't, my dearest life, misinterpret every thing I do. Can you think meso mean and unworthy as to employ a servant to constrain you?--I call himto send to the public-houses, or inns in this town, to inquire afterCaptain Tomlinson, who may have alighted at some one of them, and be now,perhaps, needlessly adjusting his dress; and I would have him come, werehe to be without clothes, God forgive me! for I am stabbed to the heartby your cruelty.
Answer was returned, that neither of my servants was in the way.
Not in the way, said I!--Whither can the dogs be gone?
O Sir! with a scornful air; not far, I'll warrant. One of them was underthe window just now; according to order, I suppose, to watch my steps--but I will do what I please, and go where I please; and that to yourface.
God forbid, that I should hinder you in any thing that you may do withsafety to yourself!
Now I verily believe that her design was to slip out, in pursuance of thecloset-whispering between her and Miss Rawlins; perhaps to Miss Rawlins'shouse.
She then stept back to Mrs. Moore, and gave her something, which provedto be a diamond ring, and desired her [not whisperingly, but with an airof defiance to me] that that might be a pledge for her, till she defrayedher demands; which she should soon find means to do; having no more moneyabout her than she might have occasion for before she came to anacquaintance's.
Mrs. Moore would have declined taking it; but she would not be denied;and then, wiping her eyes, she put on her gloves--nobody has a right tostop me, said she!--I will go!--Whom should I be afraid of?--Her veryquestion, charming creature! testifying her fear.
I beg pardon, Madam, [turning to Mrs. Moore, and courtesying,] for thetrouble I have given you.--I beg pardon, Madam, to Miss Rawlins,[courtesying likewise to her,]--you may both hear of me in a happierhour, if such a one fall to my lot--and God bless you both!--strugglingwith her tears till she sobbed--and away was tripping.
I stepped to the door: I put it to; and setting my back against it, tookher struggling hand--My dearest life! my angel! said I, why will you thusdistress me?--Is this the forgiveness which you so solemnly promised?--
Unhand me, Sir!--You have no business with me! You have no right overme! You know you have not.
But whither, whither, my dearest love, would you go!--Think you not thatI will follow you, were it to the world's end!--Whither would you go?
Well do you ask me, whither I would go, who have been the occasion that Ihave not a friend left!--But God, who knows my innocence, and my uprightintentions, will not wholly abandon me when I am out of your power; butwhile I am in it, I cannot expect a gleam of the divine grace or favourto reach me.
How severe is this!--How shockingly severe!--Out of your presence, myangry fair-one, I can neither hope for the one nor the other. As mycousin Montague, in the letter you have read, observes, You are my polarstar and my guide, and if ever I am to be happy, either here orhereafter, it must be in and by you.
She would then have opened the door. But I, respectfully opposing her,Begone, man! Begone, Mr. Lovelace! said she, stop not in my way. If youwould not that I should attempt the window, give me passage by the door;for, once more, you have no right to detain me.
Your resentments, my dearest life, I will own to be well grounded. Iwill acknowledge that I have been all in fault. On my knee, [and down Idropt,] I ask your pardon. And can you refuse to ratify your ownpromise? Look forward to the happy prospect before us. See you not myLord M. and Lady Sarah longing to bless you, for blessing me, and theirwhole family? Can you take no pleasure in the promised visit of LadyBetty and my cousin Montague? And in the protection they offer you, ifyou are dissatisfied with mine? Have you no wish to see your uncle'sfriend? Stay only till Captain Tomlinson comes. Receive from him thenews of your uncle's compliance with the wishes of both.
She seemed altogether distressed; was ready to sink; and forced to leanagainst the wainscot, as I kneeled at her feet. A stream of tears atlast burst from her less indignant eyes. Good heaven! said she, liftingup her lovely face, and clasped hands, what is at last to be my destiny?Deliver me from this dangerous man; and direct me--I know not what to do,what I can do, nor what I ought to do!
The women, as I had owned our marriage to be but half completed, heardnothing in this whole scene to contradict (not flagrantly to contradict)what I had asserted. They believed they saw in her returning temper, andstaggered resolution, a love for me, which her indignation had beforesuppressed; and they joined to persuade her to tarry till the Captaincame, and to hear his proposals; representing the dangers to which shewould be exposed; the fatigues she might endure; a lady of herappearance, unguarded, unprotected. On the other hand they dwelt upon mydeclared contrition, and on my promises; for the performance of whichthey offered to be bound. So much had my kneeling humility affectedthem.
Women, Jack, tacitly acknowledge the inferiority of their sex, in thepride they take to behold a kneeling lover at their feet.
She turned from me, and threw herself into a chair.
I arose and approached her with reverence. My dearest creature, said I,and was proceeding, but, with a face glowing with conscious dignity, sheinterrupted me--Ungenerous, ungrateful Lovelace! You know not the valueof the heart you have insulted! Nor can you conceive how much my souldespises your meanness. But meanness must ever be the portion of theman, who can act vilely!
The women believing we were likely to be on better terms, retired. Thedear perverse opposed their going; but they saw I was desirous of theirabsence; and when they had withdrawn, I once more threw myself at herfeet, and acknowledged my offences; implored her forgiveness for this onetime, and promised the most exact circumspection for the future.
It was impossible for her she said to keep her memory and forgive me.What hadst thou seen in the conduct of Clarissa Harlowe, that shouldencourage such an insult upon her as thou didst dare to make? How meanlymust thou think of her, that thou couldst presume to be so guilty, andexpect her to be so weak as to forgive thee?
I besought her to let me read over to her Captain Tomlinson's letter. Iwas sure it was impossible she could have given it the requisiteattention.
I have given it the requisite attention, said she; and the other letterstoo. So that what I say is upon deliberation. And what have I to fearfrom my brother and sister? They can but complete the ruin of myfortunes with my father and uncles. Let them and welcome. You, Sir, Ithank you, have lowered my fortunes; but, I bless God, that my mind isnot sunk with my fortunes. It is, on the contrary, raised above fortune,and above you; and for half a word they shall have the estate they enviedme for, and an acquittal from me of all the expectations from my familythat may make them uneasy.
I lifted up my hands and eyes in silent admiration of her.
My brother, Sir, may think me ruined; to the praise of your character, hemay think it impossible to be with you and be innocent. You have but toowell justified their harshest censures by every part of your conduct.But now that I have escaped from you, and that I am out of the reach ofyour mysterious devices, I will wrap myself up in mine own innocence,[and then the passionate beauty folded her arms about herself,] and leaveto time, and to my future circumspection, the re-establishment of mycharacter. Leave me then, Sir, pursue me not!--
Good Heaven! [interrupting her]--and all this, for what?--Had I notyielded to your entreaties, (forgive me, Madam,) you could not havecarried farther your resentments--
Wretch! Was it not crime enough to give occasion for those entreaties?Wouldst thou make a merit to me, that thou didst not utterly ruin herwhom thou oughtest to have protected? Begone, man! (turning from me, herface crimsoned over with passion.)--See me no more!--I cannot bear theein my sight!--
Dearest, dearest creature!
If I forgive thee, Lovelace--And there she stopped.--To endeavour,proceeded she, to endeavour by premeditation, by low contrivances, bycries of Fire! to terrify a poor creature who had consented to take awretched chance with thee for l
ife!
For Heaven's sake,--offering to take her repulsing hand, as she wasflying from me towards the closet.
What hast thou to do to plead for the sake of Heaven in thy favour!--Odarkest of human minds!
Then turning from me, wiping her eyes, and again turning towards me, buther sweet face half aside, What difficulties hast thou involved me in!That thou hadst a plain path before thee, after thou hadst betrayed meinto thy power.--At once my mind takes in the whole of thy crookedbehaviour; and if thou thinkest of Clarissa Harlowe as her proud hearttells her thou oughtest to think of her, thou wilt seek thy fortuneselsewhere. How often hast thou provoked me to tell thee, that my soulis above thee!
For Heaven's sake, Madam, for a soul's sake, which it is in your powerto save from perdition, forgive me the past offence. I am the greatestvillain on earth if it was a premeditated one; yet I presume not toexcuse myself. On your mercy I throw myself. I will not offer at anyplea but that of penitence. See but Captain Tomlinson.--See but LadyBetty and my cousin; let them plead for me; let them be guarantees formy honour.
If Captain Tomlinson come while I stay here, I may see him; but as foryou, Sir--
Dearest creature! let me beg of you not to aggravate my offence to theCaptain when he comes. Let me beg of you--
What askest thou? It is not that I shall be of party against myself?That I shall palliate--
Do not charge me, Madam, interrupted I, with villainous premeditation!--Do not give such a construction to my offence as may weaken youruncle's opinion--as may strengthen your brother's--
She flung from me to the further end of the room, [she could go nofurther,] and just then Mrs. Moore came up, and told her that dinner wasready, and that she had prevailed upon Miss Rawlins to give her hercompany.
You must excuse me, Mrs. Moore, said she. Miss Rawlins I hope also will--but I cannot eat--I cannot go down. As for you, Sir, I suppose youwill think it right to depart hence; at least till the gentleman comeswhom you expect.
I respectfully withdrew into the next room, that Mrs. Moore mightacquaint her, (I durst not myself,) that I was her lodger and boarder,as, whisperingly, I desired that she would; and meeting Miss Rawlins inthe passage, Dearest Miss Rawlins, said I, stand my friend; join with Mrs.Moore to pacify my spouse, if she has any new flights upon my havingtaken lodgings, and intending to board here. I hope she will have moregenerosity than to think of hindering a gentlewoman from letting herlodgings.
I suppose Mrs. Moore, (whom I left with my fair-one,) had apprized her ofthis before Miss Rawlins went in; for I heard her say, while I withheldMiss Rawlins,--'No, indeed: he is much mistaken--surely he does not thinkI will.'
They both expostulated with her, as I could gather from bits and scrapsof what they said; for they spoke so low, that I could not hear anydistinct sentence, but from the fair perverse, whose anger made herlouder. And to this purpose I heard her deliver herself in answer todifferent parts of their talk to her:--'Good Mrs. Moore, dear MissRawlins, press me no further:--I cannot sit down at table with him!'
They said something, as I suppose in my behalf--'O the insinuatingwretch! What defence have I against a man, who, go where I will, canturn every one, even of the virtuous of my sex, in his favour?'
After something else said, which I heard not distinctly--'This isexecrable cunning!--Were you to know his wicked heart, he is not withouthope of engaging you two good persons to second him in the vilest of hismachinations.'
How came she, (thought I, at the instant,) by all this penetration? Mydevil surely does not play me booty. If I thought he did, I would marry,and live honest, to be even with him.
I suppose then they urged the plea which I hinted to Miss Rawlins atgoing in, that she would not be Mrs. Moore's hindrance; for thus sheexpressed herself--'He will no doubt pay you your own price. You neednot question his liberality; but one house cannot hold us.--Why, if itwould, did I fly from him, to seek refuge among strangers?'
Then, in answer to somewhat else they pleaded--''Tis a mistake, Madam;I am not reconciled to him, I will believe nothing he says. Has he notgiven you a flagrant specimen of what a man he is, and of what his iscapable, by the disguises you saw him in? My story is too long, and mystay here will be but short; or I could convince you that my resentmentsagainst him are but too well founded.'
I suppose that they pleaded for her leave for my dining with them; forshe said--'I have nothing to say to that: it is your own house, Mrs.Moore--it is your own table--you may admit whom you please to it, onlyleave me at my liberty to choose my company.'
Then, in answer, as I suppose, to their offer of sending her up a plate--'A bit of bread, if you please, and a glass of water; that's all I canswallow at present. I am really very much discomposed. Saw you not howbad I was? Indignation only could have supported my spirits!--
'I have no objections to his dining with you, Madam;' added she, inreply, I suppose, to a farther question of the same nature--'But I willnot stay a night in the same house where he lodges.'
I presume Miss Rawlins had told her that she would not stay dinner: forshe said,--'Let me not deprive Mrs. Moore of your company, Miss Rawlins.You will not be displeased with his talk. He can have no design uponyou.'
Then I suppose they pleaded what I might say behind her back, to make myown story good:--'I care not what he says or what he thinks of me.Repentance and amendment are all the harm I wish him, whatever becomes ofme!'
By her accent she wept when she spoke these last words.
They came out both of them wiping their eyes; and would have persuaded meto relinquish the lodgings, and to depart till her uncle's friend came.But I knew better. I did not care to trust the Devil, well as she andMiss Howe suppose me to be acquainted with him, for finding her outagain, if once more she escaped me.
What I am most afraid of is, that she will throw herself among her ownrelations; and, if she does, I am confident they will not be able towithstand her affecting eloquence. But yet, as thou'lt see, theCaptain's letter to me is admirably calculated to obviate myapprehensions on this score; particularly in that passage where it issaid, that her uncle thinks not himself at liberty to correspond directlywith her, or to receive applications from her--but through CaptainTomlinson, as is strongly implied.*
* See Letter XXIV. of this volume.
I must own, (notwithstanding the revenge I have so solemnly vowed,) thatI would very fain have made for her a merit with myself in her returningfavour, and have owed as little as possible to the mediation of CaptainTomlinson. My pride was concerned in this: and this was one of myreasons for not bringing him with me.--Another was, that, if I wereobliged to have recourse to his assistance, I should be better able, (byvisiting without him,) to direct him what to say or do, as I should findout the turn of her humour.
I was, however, glad at my heart that Mrs. Moore came up so seasonablywith notice that dinner was ready. The fair fugitive was all in all.She had the excuse for withdrawing, I had time to strengthen myself; theCaptain had time to come; and the lady to cool.--Shakspeare adviseswell:
Oppose not rage, whilst rage is in its force; But give it way awhile, and let it waste. The rising deluge is not stopt with dams; Those it o'erbears, and drowns the hope of harvest. But, wisely manag'd, its divided strength Is sluic'd in channels, and securely drain'd: And when its force is spent, and unsupply'd, The residue with mounds may be restrain'd, And dry-shod we may pass the naked ford.
I went down with the women to dinner. Mrs. Moore sent her fair boarderup a plate, but she only ate a little bit of bread, and drank a glass ofwater. I doubted not but she would keep her word, when it was once goneout. Is she not an Harlowe? She seems to be enuring herself tohardships, which at the worst she can never know; since, though sheshould ultimately refuse to be obliged to me, or (to express myself moresuitable to my own heart,) to oblige me, every one who sees her mustbefriend her.
But let me ask thee, Belford, Art thou not solicitous for
me in relationto the contents of the letter which the angry beauty had written anddispatched away by man and horse; and for what may be Miss Howe's answerto it? Art thou not ready to inquire, Whether it be not likely that MissHowe, when she knows of her saucy friend's flight, will be concernedabout her letter, which she must know could not be at Wilson's till afterthat flight, and so, probably, would fall into my hands?--
All these things, as thou'lt see in the sequel, are provided for with asmuch contrivance as human foresight can admit.
I have already told thee that Will. is upon the lookout for old Grimes--old Grimes is, it seems, a gossiping, sottish rascal; and if Will. canbut light of him, I'll answer for the consequence; For has not Will. beenmy servant upwards of seven years?