CALEB WILLIAMS

OR THINGS AS THEY ARE

BY WILLIAM GODWIN

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ERNEST A. BAKER, M. A. 

LONDON

1903

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

MR. FERDINANDO FALKLAND, a high-spirited and highly cultured gentleman, a country squire in "a remote county of England. "

CALEB WILLIAMS, a youth, his secretary, the discoverer of his secret, and the supposed narrator of the consequent events. 

MR. COLLINS, Falkland's steward and Caleb's friend. 

THOMAS, a servant of Falkland's. 

MR. FORESTER, Falkland's brother-in-law. 

MR. BARNABAS TYRREL, a brutal and tyrannical squire. 

MISS EMILY MELVILLE, his cousin and dependent, whom he cruelly maltreatsand does to death. 

GRIMES, a brutal rustic, suborned by Tyrrel to abduct Miss Melville. 

DR. WILSON; MRS. HAMMOND, friends of Miss Melville. MR. HAWKINS, farmer;YOUNG HAWKINS, his son, Victims of Tyrrel's brutality, and wrongfullyhanged as his murderers. 

GINES, a robber and thief-taker, instrument of Falkland's vengeance uponCaleb. 

MR. RAYMOND, an "Arcadian" captain of robbers. 

LARKINS, one of his band. 

AN OLD HAG, housekeeper to the robbers. 

A GAOLER. 

MISS PEGGY, the gaoler's daughter. 

MRS. MARNEY, a poor gentlewoman, Caleb's friend in distress. 

MR. SPURREL, a friend who informs on Caleb. 

MRS. DENISON, a cultivated lady with whom Caleb is for a while onfriendly terms. 

INTRODUCTION

The reputation of WILLIAM GODWIN as a social philosopher, and the meritsof his famous novel, "Caleb Williams, " have been for more than a centurythe subject of extreme divergencies of judgment among critics. "Thefirst systematic anarchist, " as he is called by Professor Saintsbury, aroused bitter contention with his writings during his own lifetime, andhis opponents have remained so prejudiced that even the staidbibliographer Allibone, in his "Dictionary of English Literature, " aplace where one would think the most flagitious author safe fromanimosity, speaks of Godwin's private life in terms that are little lessthan scurrilous. Over against this persistent acrimony may be put thefine eulogy of Mr. C. Kegan Paul, his biographer, to represent thefavourable judgment of our own time, whilst I will venture to quote oneremarkable passage that voices the opinions of many among Godwin's mosteminent contemporaries. 

In "The Letters of Charles Lamb, " Sir T. N. Talfourd says:

 "Indifferent altogether to the politics of the age, Lamb could not help being struck with productions of its newborn energies so remarkable as the works and the character of Godwin. He seemed to realise in himself what Wordsworth long afterwards described, 'the central calm at the heart of all agitation. ' Through the medium of his mind the stormy convulsions of society were seen 'silent as in a picture. ' Paradoxes the most daring wore the air of deliberate wisdom as he pronounced them. He foretold the future happiness of mankind, not with the inspiration of the poet, but with the grave and passionless voice of the oracle. There was nothing better calculated at once to feed and to make steady the enthusiasm of youthful patriots than the high speculations in which he taught them to engage, on the nature of social evils and the great destiny of his species. No one would have suspected the author of those wild theories which startled the wise and shocked the prudent in the calm, gentlemanly person who rarely said anything above the most gentle commonplace, and took interest in little beyond the whist-table. "

WILLIAM GODWIN (1756-1836) was son and grandson of Dissenting ministers, and was destined for the same profession. In theology he began as aCalvinist, and for a while was tinctured with the austere doctrines ofthe Sandemanians. But his religious views soon took an unorthodox turn, and in 1782, falling out with his congregation at Stowmarket, he came upto London to earn his bread henceforward as a man of letters. In 1793Godwin became one of the most famous men in England by the publicationof his "Political Justice, " a work that his biographer would place sideby side with the "Speech for Unlicensed Printing, " the "Essay onEducation, " and "Emile, " as one of "the unseen levers which have movedthe changes of the times. " Although the book came out at what we shouldcall a "prohibitive price, " it had an enormous circulation, and broughtits author in something like 1, 000 guineas. In his first novel, "CalebWilliams, " which was published the next year, he illustrated in scenesfrom real life many of the principles enunciated in his philosophicalwork. "Caleb Williams" went through a number of editions, and wasdramatized by Colman the younger under the title of "The Iron Chest. " Ithas now been out of print for many years. Godwin wrote several othernovels, but one alone is readable now, "St. Leon, " which isphilosophical in idea and purpose, and contains some passages ofsingular eloquence and beauty. 

Godwin married the authoress of the "Rights of Woman, " MaryWollstonecraft, in 1797, losing her the same year. Their daughter wasthe gifted wife of the poet Shelley. He was a social man, particularlyfond of whist, and was on terms of intimacy and affection with manycelebrated men and women. Tom Paine, Josiah Wedgwood, and Curran wereamong his closest male friends, while the story of his friendships withMrs. Inchbald, Amelia Opie, with the lady immortalized by Shelley asMaria Gisborne, and with those literary sisters, Sophia and Harriet Lee, authors of the "Canterbury Tales, " has a certain sentimental interest. Afterwards he became known to Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Lamb. Hemarried Mrs. Clairmont in 1801. His later years were clouded by greatembarrassments, and not till 1833 was he put out of reach of the worstprivations by the gift of a small sinecure, that of yeoman usher of theExchequer. He died in 1836. 

Among the contradictory judgments passed on "Caleb Williams" by Godwin'scontemporaries those of Hazlitt, Sir James Mackintosh, and Sir T. N. Talfourd were perhaps the most eulogistic, whilst De Quincey and AllanCunningham criticized the book with considerable severity. Hazlitt'sopinion is quoted from the "Spirit of the Age":

 "A masterpiece, both as to invention and execution. The romantic and chivalrous principle of the love of personal fame is embodied in the finest possible manner in the character of Falkland; as in Caleb Williams (who is not the first, but the second character in the piece), we see the very demon of curiosity personified. Perhaps the art with which these two characters are contrived to relieve and set off each other has never been surpassed by any work of fiction, with the exception of the immortal satire of Cervantes. "

Sir Leslie Stephen said of it the other day:

 "It has lived--though in comparative obscurity--for over a century, and high authorities tell us that vitality prolonged for that period raises a presumption that a book deserves the title of classic. "--_National Review, February_, 1902. 

To understand how the work came to be written, and its aim, it isadvisable to read carefully all three of Godwin's prefaces, moreparticularly the last and the most candid, written in 1832. This will, Ithink, dispose of the objection that the story was expressly constructedto illustrate a moral, a moral that, as Sir Leslie Stephen says, "eludeshim. " He says:

 "I formed a conception of a book of fictitious adventure that should in some way be distinguished by a very powerful interest. Pursuing this idea, I invented first the third volume of my tale, then the second, and, last of all, the first. I bent myself to the conception of a series of adventures of flight and pursuit; the fugitive in perpetual apprehension of being overwhelmed with the worst calamities, and the pursuer, by his ingenuity and resources, keeping his victim in a state of the most fearful alarm. This was the project of my third volume. "

He goes on to describe in more detail the "dramatic and impressive"situations and the "fearful events" that were to be evolved, making itpretty clear that the purpose somewhat vaguely and cautiously outlinedin the earliest preface was rather of the nature of an afterthought. Falkland is not intended to be a personification of the evils caused bythe social system, nor is he put forward as the inevitable product ofthat system. The reader's attention is chiefly absorbed by theextraordinary contest between Caleb Williams and Falkland, and in thetragic situations that it involves. Compared with these the denunciationof the social system is a matter of secondary interest; but it wasnatural that the author of the "Political Justice, " with his mindpreoccupied by the defects of the English social system, should makethose defects the, evil agencies of his plot. As the essentialconditions of the series of events, as the machinery by which everythingis brought about, these defects are of the utmost importance to thestory. It is the accused system that awards to Tyrrel and Falkland theirimmense preponderance in society, and enables them to use the power ofthe law for the most nefarious ends. Tyrrel does his cousin to death andruins his tenant, a man of integrity, by means of the law. This is theoccasion of Falkland's original crime. His more heinous offence, theabandonment of the innocent Hawkinses to the gallows, is the consequenceof what Godwin expressly denounces, punishment for murder. "I conceivedit to be in the highest degree absurd and iniquitous, to cut off a manqualified for the most essential and extensive utility, merely out ofretrospect to an act which, whatever were its merits, could not beretrieved. " Then a new element is imported into the train of causation, Caleb's insatiable curiosity, and the strife begins between thesewell-matched antagonists, the man of wealth and station utilizing allthe advantages granted him by the state of society to crush his enemy. Godwin, then, was justified in declaring that his book comprehended "ageneral view of the modes of domestic and unrecorded despotism by whichman becomes the destroyer of man. " Such were the words of the originalpreface, which was suppressed for a short time owing to the fears causedby the trial of Horne Tooke, Thomas Holcroft and other revolutionists, with whom Godwin was in profound sympathy. Had he intended "CalebWilliams, " however, from its first inception, to be an imaginativeversion of the "Political Justice, " he would have had to invent adifferent plan and different characters. The arguments of a sociologicalnovel lack cogency unless the characters are fairly representative ofaverage mankind. Godwin's principal actors are both, to say the least, exceptional. They are lofty idealizations of certain virtues and powersof mind. Falkland is like Jean Valjean, a superhuman creature; and, indeed, "Caleb Williams" may well be compared on one side with "LesMisérables, " for Victor Hugo's avowed purpose, likewise, was thedenunciation of social tyranny. But the characteristics that would haveweakened the implied theorem, had such been the main object, are thevery things that make the novel more powerful as drama of a grandiose, spiritual kind. The high and concentrated imagination that created sucha being as Falkland, and the intensity of passion with which Caleb'sfatal energy of mind is sustained through that long, despairingstruggle, are of greater artistic value than the mechanical symmetry bywhich morals are illustrated. 

E. A. B. 

PREFACE

BY THE AUTHOR. 

The following narrative is intended to answer a purpose more general andimportant than immediately appears upon the face of it. The question nowafloat in the world respecting THINGS AS THEY ARE is the mostinteresting that can be presented to the human mind. While one partypleads for reformation and change, the other extols in the warmest termsthe existing constitution of society. It seemed as if something would begained for the decision of this question if that constitution werefaithfully developed in its practical effects. What is now presented tothe public is no refined and abstract speculation; it is a study anddelineation of things passing in the moral world. It is but of late thatthe inestimable importance of political principles has been adequatelyapprehended. It is now known to philosophers that the spirit andcharacter of the Government intrudes itself into every rank of society. But this is a truth highly worthy to be communicated to persons whombooks of philosophy and science are never likely to reach. Accordingly, it was proposed, in the invention of the following work, to comprehend, as far as the progressive nature of a single story would allow, ageneral review of the modes of domestic and unrecorded despotism bywhich man becomes the destroyer of man. If the author shall have taughta valuable lesson, without subtracting from the interest and passion bywhich a performance of this sort ought to be characterised, he will havereason to congratulate himself upon the vehicle he has chosen. 

_May_ 12, 1794. 

This preface was withdrawn in the original edition, in compliance withthe alarms of booksellers. "Caleb Williams" made his first appearance inthe world in the same month in which the sanguinary plot broke outagainst the liberties of Englishmen, which was happily terminated by theacquittal of its first intended victims in the close of that year. Terror was the order of the day; and it was feared that even the humblenovelist might be shown to be constructively a traitor. 

_October_ 29, 1795. 

AUTHOR'S LATEST PREFACE. 

LONDON, _November_ 20, 1832. 

"CALEB WILLIAMS" has always been regarded by the public with an unusualdegree of favour. The proprietor of "THE STANDARD NOVELS" has thereforeimagined that even an account of the concoction and mode of writing ofthe work would be viewed with some interest. 

I finished the "Enquiry concerning Political Justice, " the first workwhich may be considered as written by me in a certain degree in thematurity of my intellectual powers, and bearing my name, early inJanuary, 1793; and about the middle of the following month the book waspublished. It was my fortune at that time to be obliged to consider mypen as the sole instrument for supplying my current expenses. By theliberality of my bookseller, Mr. George Robinson, of Paternoster Row, Iwas enabled then, and for nearly ten years before, to meet theseexpenses, while writing different things of obscure note, the names ofwhich, though innocent and in some degree useful, I am rather inclinedto suppress. In May, 1791, I projected this, my favourite work, and fromthat time gave up every other occupation that might interfere with it. My agreement with Robinson was that he was to supply my wants at aspecified rate while the book was in the train of composition. Finally, I was very little beforehand with the world on the day of itspublication, and was therefore obliged to look round and consider towhat species of industry I should next devote myself. 

I had always felt in myself some vocation towards the composition of anarrative of fictitious adventure; and among the things of obscure notewhich I have above referred to were two or three pieces of this nature. It is not therefore extraordinary that some project of the sort shouldhave suggested itself on the present occasion. 

But I stood now in a very different situation from that in which I hadbeen placed at a former period. In past years, and even almost fromboyhood, I was perpetually prone to exclaim with Cowley:

 "What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?"

But I had endeavoured for ten years, and was as far from approaching myobject as ever. Everything I wrote fell dead-born from the press. Veryoften I was disposed to quit the enterprise in despair. But still I feltever and anon impelled to repeat my effort. 

At length I conceived the plan of Political Justice. I was convincedthat my object of building to myself a name would never be attained bymerely repeating and refining a little upon what other men had said, even though I should imagine that I delivered things of this sort with amore than usual point and elegance. The world, I believed, would acceptnothing from me with distinguishing favour that did not bear upon theface of it the undoubted stamp of originality. Having long ruminatedupon the principles of Political Justice, I persuaded myself that Icould offer to the public, in a treatise on this subject, things at oncenew, true, and important. In the progress of the work I became moresanguine and confident. I talked over my ideas with a few familiarfriends during its progress, and they gave me every generousencouragement. It happened that the fame of my book, in someinconsiderable degree, got before its publication, and a certain numberof persons were prepared to receive it with favour. It would be falsemodesty in me to say that its acceptance, when published, did not nearlycome up to everything that could soberly have been expected by me. Inconsequence of this, the tone of my mind, both during the period inwhich I was engaged in the work and afterwards, acquired a certainelevation, and made me now unwilling to stoop to what was insignificant. 

I formed a conception of a book of fictitious adventure that should insome way be distinguished by a very powerful interest. Pursuing thisidea, I invented first the third volume of my tale, then the second, andlast of all the first. I bent myself to the conception of a series ofadventures of flight and pursuit; the fugitive in perpetual apprehensionof being overwhelmed with the worst calamities, and the pursuer, by hisingenuity and resources, keeping his victim in a state of the mostfearful alarm. This was the project of my third volume. I was nextcalled upon to conceive a dramatic and impressive situation adequate toaccount for the impulse that the pursuer should feel, incessantly toalarm and harass his victim, with an inextinguishable resolution neverto allow him the least interval of peace and security. This Iapprehended could best be effected by a secret murder, to theinvestigation of which the innocent victim should be impelled by anunconquerable spirit of curiosity. The murderer would thus have asufficient motive to persecute the unhappy discoverer, that he mightdeprive him of peace, character, and credit, and have him for ever inhis power. This constituted the outline of my second volume. 

The subject of the first volume was still to be invented. To accountfor the fearful events of the third, it was necessary that the pursuershould be invested with every advantage of fortune, with a resolutionthat nothing could defeat or baffle, and with extraordinary resources ofintellect. Nor could my purpose of giving an overpowering interest to mytale be answered without his appearing to have been originally endowedwith a mighty store of amiable dispositions and virtues, so that hisbeing driven to the first act of murder should be judged worthy of thedeepest regret, and should be seen in some measure to have arisen out ofhis virtues themselves. It was necessary to make him, so to speak, thetenant of an atmosphere of romance, so that every reader should feelprompted almost to worship him for his high qualities. Here were amplematerials for a first volume. 

I felt that I had a great advantage in thus carrying back my inventionfrom the ultimate conclusion to the first commencement of the train ofadventures upon which I purposed to employ my pen. An entire unity ofplot would be the infallible result; and the unity of spirit andinterest in a tale truly considered gives it a powerful hold on thereader, which can scarcely be generated with equal success in any otherway. 

I devoted about two or three weeks to the imagining and putting downhints for my story before I engaged seriously and methodically in itscomposition. In these hints I began with my third volume, then proceededto my second, and last of all grappled with the first. I filled two orthree sheets of demy writing-paper, folded in octavo, with thesememorandums. They were put down with great brevity, yet explicitlyenough to secure a perfect recollection of their meaning, within thetime necessary for drawing out the story at full, in short paragraphs oftwo, three, four, five, or six lines each. 

I then sat down to write my story from the beginning. I wrote for themost part but a short portion in any single day. I wrote only when theafflatus was upon me. I held it for a maxim that any portion that waswritten when I was not fully in the vein told for considerably worsethan nothing. Idleness was a thousand times better in this case thanindustry against the grain. Idleness was only time lost; and the nextday, it may be, was as promising as ever. It was merely a day perishedfrom the calendar. But a passage written feebly, flatly, and in a wrongspirit, constituted an obstacle that it was next to impossible tocorrect and set right again. I wrote therefore by starts; sometimes fora week or ten days not a line. Yet all came to the same thing in thesequel. On an average, a volume of "Caleb Williams" cost me four months, neither less nor more. 

It must be admitted, however, that during the whole period, bating a fewintervals, my mind was in a high state of excitement. I said to myself athousand times, "I will write a tale that shall constitute an epoch inthe mind of the reader, that no one, after he has read it, shall ever beexactly the same man that he was before. "--I put these things down justas they happened, and with the most entire frankness. I know that itwill sound like the most pitiable degree of self-conceit. But suchperhaps ought to be the state of mind of an author when he does hisbest. At any rate, I have said nothing of my vainglorious impulse fornearly forty years. 

When I had written about seven-tenths of the first volume, I wasprevailed upon by the extreme importunity of an old and intimate friendto allow him the perusal of my manuscript. On the second day he returnedit with a note to this purpose: "I return you your manuscript, because Ipromised to do so. If I had obeyed the impulse of my own mind, I shouldhave thrust it in the fire. If you persist, the book will infalliblyprove the grave of your literary fame. "

I doubtless felt no implicit deference for the judgment of my friendlycritic. Yet it cost me at least two days of deep anxiety before Irecovered the shock. Let the reader picture to himself my situation. Ifelt no implicit deference for the judgment of my friendly critic. Butit was all I had for it. This was my first experiment of an unbiasseddecision. It stood in the place of all the world to me. I could not, andI did not feel disposed to, appeal any further. If I had, how could Itell that the second and third judgment would be more favourable thanthe first? Then what would have been the result? No; I had nothing forit but to wrap myself in my own integrity. By dint of resolution Ibecame invulnerable. I resolved to go on to the end, trusting as I couldto my own anticipations of the whole, and bidding the world wait itstime before it should be admitted to the consult. 

I began my narrative, as is the more usual way, in the third person. ButI speedily became dissatisfied. I then assumed the first person, makingthe hero of my tale his own historian; and in this mode I have persistedin all my subsequent attempts at works of fiction. It was infinitely thebest adapted, at least, to my vein of delineation, where the thing inwhich my imagination revelled the most freely was the analysis of theprivate and internal operations of the mind, employing my metaphysicaldissecting knife in tracing and laying bare the involutions of motive, and recording the gradually accumulating impulses which led thepersonages I had to describe primarily to adopt the particular way ofproceeding in which they afterwards embarked. 

When I had determined on the main purpose of my story, it was ever mymethod to get about me any productions of former authors that seemed tobear on my subject. I never entertained the fear that in this way ofproceeding I should be in danger of servilely copying my predecessors. Iimagined that I had a vein of thinking that was properly my own, whichwould always preserve me from plagiarism. I read other authors, that Imight see what they had done, or, more properly, that I might forciblyhold my mind and occupy my thoughts in a particular train, I and mypredecessors travelling in some sense to the same goal, at the same timethat I struck out a path of my own, without ultimately heeding thedirection they pursued, and disdaining to inquire whether by any chanceit for a few steps coincided or did not coincide with mine. 

Thus, in the instance of "Caleb Williams, " I read over a little oldbook, entitled "The Adventures of Mademoiselle de St. Phale, " a FrenchProtestant in the times of the fiercest persecution of the Huguenots, who fled through France in the utmost terror, in the midst of eternalalarms and hair-breadth escapes, having her quarters perpetually beatenup, and by scarcely any chance finding a moment's interval of security. I turned over the pages of a tremendous compilation, entitled "God'sRevenge against Murder, " where the beam of the eye of Omniscience wasrepresented as perpetually pursuing the guilty, and laying open his mosthidden retreats to the light of day. I was extremely conversant with the"Newgate Calendar" and the "Lives of the Pirates. " In the meantime noworks of fiction came amiss to me, provided they were written withenergy. The authors were still employed upon the same mine as myself, however different was the vein they pursued: we were all of us engagedin exploring the entrails of mind and motive, and in tracing the variousrencontres and clashes that may occur between man and man in thediversified scene of human life. 

I rather amused myself with tracing a certain similitude between thestory of Caleb Williams and the tale of Bluebeard, than derived anyhints from that admirable specimen of the terrific. Falkland was myBluebeard, who had perpetrated atrocious crimes, which, if discovered, he might expect to have all the world roused to revenge against him. Caleb Williams was the wife who, in spite of warning, persisted in hisattempts to discover the forbidden secret; and, when he had succeeded, struggled as fruitlessly to escape the consequences, as the wife ofBluebeard in washing the key of the ensanguined chamber, who, as oftenas she cleared the stain of blood from the one side, found it showingitself with frightful distinctness on the other. 

When I had proceeded as far as the early pages of my third volume, Ifound myself completely at a stand. I rested on my arms from the 2nd ofJanuary, 1794, to the 1st of April following, without getting forward inthe smallest degree. It has ever been thus with me in works of anycontinuance. The bow will not be for ever bent:

 "Opere in longo fas est obrepere somnum. "

I endeavoured, however, to take my repose to myself in security, and notto inflict a set of crude and incoherent dreams upon my readers. In themeantime, when I revived, I revived in earnest, and in the course ofthat month carried on my work with unabated speed to the end. 

Thus I have endeavoured to give a true history of the concoction andmode of writing of this mighty trifle. When I had done, I soon becamesensible that I had done in a manner nothing. How many flat and insipidparts does the book contain! How terribly unequal does it appear to me!From time to time the author plainly reels to and fro like a drunkenman. And, when I had done all, what had I done? Written a book to amuseboys and girls in their vacant hours, a story to be hastily gobbled upby them, swallowed in a pusillanimous and unanimated mood, withoutchewing and digestion. I was in this respect greatly impressed with theconfession of one of the most accomplished readers and excellent criticsthat any author could have fallen in with (the unfortunate JosephGerald). He told me that he had received my book late one evening, andhad read through the three volumes before he closed his eyes. Thus, whathad cost me twelve months' labour, ceaseless heartaches and industry, now sinking in despair, and now roused and sustained in unusual energy, he went over in a few hours, shut the book, laid himself on his pillow, slept, and was refreshed, and cried, "To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new. "

I had thought to have said something here respecting the concoction of"St. Leon" and "Fleetwood. " But all that occurs to me on the subjectseems to be anticipated in the following

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 

_February 14, 1805. _

Yet another novel from the same pen, which has twice before claimed thepatience of the public in this form. The unequivocal indulgence whichhas been extended to my two former attempts, renders me doublysolicitous not to forfeit the kindness I have experienced. 

One caution I have particularly sought to exercise: "not to repeatmyself. " Caleb Williams was a story of very surprising and uncommonevents, but which were supposed to be entirely within the laws andestablished course of nature, as she operates in the planet we inhabit. The story of St. Leon is of the miraculous class; and its design, to"mix human feelings and passions with incredible situations, and thusrender them impressive and interesting. "

Some of those fastidious readers--they may be classed among the bestfriends an author has, if their admonitions are judiciouslyconsidered--who are willing to discover those faults which do not offerthemselves to every eye, have remarked that both these tales are in avicious style of writing; that Horace has long ago decided that thestory we cannot believe we are by all the laws of criticism called uponto hate; and that even the adventures of the honest secretary, who wasfirst heard of ten years ago, are so much out of the usual road that notone reader in a million can ever fear they will happen to himself. 

Gentlemen critics, I thank you. In the present volumes I have served youwith a dish agreeable to your own receipt, though I cannot say with anysanguine hope of obtaining your approbation. 

The following story consists of such adventures as for the most parthave occurred to at least one half of the Englishmen now existing whoare of the same rank of life as my hero. Most of them have been atcollege, and shared in college excesses; most of them have afterward runa certain gauntlet of dissipation; most have married, and, I am afraid, there are few of the married tribe who have not at some time or otherhad certain small misunderstandings with their wives. [A] To be sure, they have not all of them felt and acted under these trite adventures asmy hero does. In this little work the reader will scarcely find anythingto "elevate and surprise;" and, if it has any merit, it must consist inthe liveliness with which it brings things home to the imagination, andthe reality it gives to the scenes it pourtrays. 

[Footnote A: I confess, however, the inability I found to weave acatastrophe, such as I desired, out of these ordinary incidents. What Ihave here said, therefore, must not be interpreted as applicable to theconcluding sheets of my work. ]

Yes, even in the present narrative, I have aimed at a certain kind ofnovelty--a novelty which may be aptly expressed by a parody on awell-known line of Pope; it relates:

 "Things often done, but never yet described. "

In selecting among common and ordinary adventures, I have endeavoured toavoid such as a thousand novels before mine have undertaken to develop. Multitudes of readers have themselves passed through the very incidentsI relate; but, for the most part, no work has hitherto recorded them. IfI have hold them truly, I have added somewhat to the stock of bookswhich should enable a recluse, shut up in his closet, to form an idea ofwhat is passing in the world. It is inconceivable, meanwhile, how much, by this choice of a subject, I increased the arduousness of my task. Itis so easy to do, a little better, or a little worse, what twentyauthors have done before! If I had foreseen from the first all thedifficulty of my project, my courage would have failed me to undertakethe execution of it. 

Certain persons, who condescend to make my supposed inconsistencies thefavourite object of their research, will perhaps remark with exultationon the respect expressed in this work for marriage, and exclaim, "It wasnot always thus!" referring to the pages in which this subject istreated in the "Enquiry concerning Political Justice" for the proof oftheir assertion. The answer to this remark is exceedingly simple. Theproduction referred to in it, the first foundation of its author's claimto public distinction and favour, was a treatise, aiming to ascertainwhat new institutions in political society might be found moreconducive to general happiness than those which at present prevail. Inthe course of this disquisition it was enquired whether marriage, as itstands described and supported in the laws of England, might not withadvantage admit of certain modifications. Can anything be more distinctthan such a proposition on the one hand and a recommendation on theother that each man for himself should supersede and trample upon theinstitutions of the country in which he lives? A thousand things mightbe found excellent and salutary, if brought into general practice, whichwould in some cases appear ridiculous, and in others be attended withtragical consequences, if prematurely acted upon by a solitaryindividual. The author of "Political Justice, " as appears again andagain in the pages of that work, is the last man in the world torecommend a pitiful attempt, by scattered examples, to renovate the faceof society, instead of endeavouring, by discussion and reasoning, toeffect a grand and comprehensive improvement in the sentiments of itsmembers. 

 * * * * *

VOLUME THE FIRST. 

CHAPTER I. 

My life has for several years been a theatre of calamity. I have been amark for the vigilance of tyranny, and I could not escape. My fairestprospects have been blasted. My enemy has shown himself inaccessible toentreaties, and untired in persecution. My fame, as well as myhappiness, has become his victim. Every one, as far as my story has beenknown, has refused to assist me in my distress, and has execrated myname. I have not deserved this treatment. My own conscience witnesses inbehalf of that innocence, my pretensions to which are regarded in theworld as incredible. There is now, however, little hope that I shallescape from the toils that universally beset me. I am incited to thepenning of these memoirs only by a desire to divert my mind from thedeplorableness of my situation, and a faint idea that posterity may bytheir means be induced to render me a justice which my contemporariesrefuse. My story will, at least, appear to have that consistency whichis seldom attendant but upon truth. 

I was born of humble parents, in a remote county of England. Theiroccupations were such as usually fall to the lot of peasants, and theyhad no portion to give me, but an education free from the usual sourcesof depravity, and the inheritance, long since lost by their unfortunateprogeny! of an honest fame. I was taught the rudiments of no science, except reading, writing, and arithmetic. But I had an inquisitive mind, and neglected no means of information from conversation or books. Myimprovement was greater than my condition in life afforded room toexpect. 

There are other circumstances deserving to be mentioned as havinginfluenced the history of my future life. I was somewhat above themiddle stature. Without being particularly athletic in appearance, orlarge in my dimensions, I was uncommonly vigorous and active. My jointswere supple, and I was formed to excel in youthful sports. The habits ofmy mind, however, were to a certain degree at war with the dictates ofboyish vanity. I had considerable aversion to the boisterous gaiety ofthe village gallants, and contrived to satisfy my love of praise with anunfrequent apparition at their amusements. My excellence in theserespects, however, gave a turn to my meditations. I delighted to read offeats of activity, and was particularly interested by tales in whichcorporeal ingenuity or strength are the means resorted to for supplyingresources and conquering difficulties. I inured myself to mechanicalpursuits, and devoted much of my time to an endeavour after mechanicalinvention. 

The spring of action which, perhaps more than any other, characterisedthe whole train of my life, was curiosity. It was this that gave me mymechanical turn; I was desirous of tracing the variety of effects whichmight be produced from given causes. It was this that made me a sort ofnatural philosopher; I could not rest till I had acquainted myself withthe solutions that had been invented for the phenomena of the universe. In fine, this produced in me an invincible attachment to books ofnarrative and romance. I panted for the unravelling of an adventure withan anxiety, perhaps almost equal to that of the man whose futurehappiness or misery depended on its issue. I read, I devouredcompositions of this sort. They took possession of my soul; and theeffects they produced were frequently discernible in my externalappearance and my health. My curiosity, however, was not entirelyignoble: village anecdotes and scandal had no charms for me: myimagination must be excited; and when that was not done, my curiositywas dormant. 

The residence of my parents was within the manor of Ferdinando Falkland, a country squire of considerable opulence. At an early age I attractedthe favourable notice of Mr. Collins, this gentleman's steward, who usedto call in occasionally at my father's. He observed the particulars ofmy progress with approbation, and made a favourable report to his masterof my industry and genius. 

In the summer of the year ----, Mr. Falkland visited his estate in ourcounty after an absence of several months. This was a period ofmisfortune to me. I was then eighteen years of age. My father lay deadin our cottage. I had lost my mother some years before. In this forlornsituation I was surprised with a message from the squire, ordering me torepair to the mansion-house the morning after my father's funeral. 

Though I was not a stranger to books, I had no practical acquaintancewith men. I had never had occasion to address a person of this elevatedrank, and I felt no small uneasiness and awe on the present occasion. Ifound Mr. Falkland a man of small stature, with an extreme delicacy ofform and appearance. In place of the hard-favoured and inflexiblevisages I had been accustomed to observe, every muscle and petty line ofhis countenance seemed to be in an inconceivable degree pregnant withmeaning. His manner was kind, attentive, and humane. His eye was full ofanimation; but there was a grave and sad solemnity in his air, which, for want of experience, I imagined was the inheritance of the great, andthe instrument by which the distance between them and their inferiorswas maintained. His look bespoke the unquietness of his mind, andfrequently wandered with an expression of disconsolateness and anxiety. 

My reception was as gracious and encouraging as I could possibly desire. Mr. Falkland questioned me respecting my learning, and my conceptions ofmen and things, and listened to my answers with condescension andapprobation. This kindness soon restored to me a considerable part of myself-possession, though I still felt restrained by the graceful, butunaltered dignity of his carriage. When Mr. Falkland had satisfied hiscuriosity, he proceeded to inform me that he was in want of a secretary, that I appeared to him sufficiently qualified for that office, and that, if, in my present change of situation, occasioned by the death of myfather, I approved of the employment, he would take me into his family. 

I felt highly flattered by the proposal, and was warm in the expressionof my acknowledgments. I set eagerly about the disposal of the littleproperty my father had left, in which I was assisted by Mr. Collins. Ihad not now a relation in the world, upon whose kindness andinterposition I had any direct claim. But, far from regarding thisdeserted situation with terror, I formed golden visions of the stationI was about to occupy. I little suspected that the gaiety and lightnessof heart I had hitherto enjoyed were upon the point of leaving me forever, and that the rest of my days were devoted to misery and alarm. 

My employment was easy and agreeable. It consisted partly in thetranscribing and arranging certain papers, and partly in writing from mymaster's dictation letters of business, as well as sketches of literarycomposition. Many of these latter consisted of an analytical survey ofthe plans of different authors and conjectural speculations upon hintsthey afforded, tending either to the detection of their errors, or thecarrying forward their discoveries. All of them bore powerful marks of aprofound and elegant mind, well stored with literature, and possessed ofan uncommon share of activity and discrimination. 

My station was in that part of the house which was appropriated for thereception of books, it being my duty to perform the functions oflibrarian as well as secretary. Here my hours would have glided intranquillity and peace, had not my situation included in itcircumstances totally different from those which attended me in myfather's cottage. In early life my mind had been much engrossed byreading and reflection: my intercourse with my fellow mortals wasoccasional and short. But, in my new residence, I was excited by everymotive of interest and novelty to study my master's character; and Ifound in it an ample field for speculation and conjecture. 

His mode of living was in the utmost degree recluse and solitary. He hadno inclination to scenes of revelry and mirth. He avoided the busyhaunts of men; nor did he seem desirous to compensate for this privationby the confidence of friendship. He appeared a total stranger to everything which usually bears the appellation of pleasure. His features werescarcely ever relaxed into a smile, nor did that air which spoke theunhappiness of his mind at any time forsake them: yet his manners wereby no means such as denoted moroseness and misanthropy. He wascompassionate and considerate for others, though the stateliness of hiscarriage and the reserve of his temper were at no time interrupted. Hisappearance and general behaviour might have strongly interested allpersons in his favour; but the coldness of his address, and theimpenetrableness of his sentiments, seemed to forbid thosedemonstrations of kindness to which one might otherwise have beenprompted. 

Such was the general appearance of Mr. Falkland: but his disposition wasextremely unequal. The distemper which afflicted him with incessantgloom had its paroxysms. Sometimes he was hasty, peevish, andtyrannical; but this proceeded rather from the torment of his mind thanan unfeeling disposition; and when reflection recurred, he appearedwilling that the weight of his misfortune should fall wholly uponhimself. Sometimes he entirely lost his self-possession, and hisbehaviour was changed into frenzy: he would strike his forehead, hisbrows became knit, his features distorted, and his teeth ground oneagainst the other. When he felt the approach of these symptoms, he wouldsuddenly rise, and, leaving the occupation, whatever it was, in which hewas engaged, hasten into a solitude upon which no person dared tointrude. 

It must not be supposed that the whole of what I am describing wasvisible to the persons about him; nor, indeed, was I acquainted with itin the extent here stated but after a considerable time, and in gradualsuccession. With respect to the domestics in general, they saw butlittle of their master. None of them, except myself, from the nature ofmy functions, and Mr. Collins, from the antiquity of his service and therespectableness of his character, approached Mr. Falkland, but at statedseasons and for a very short interval. They knew him only by thebenevolence of his actions, and the principles of inflexible integrityby which he was ordinarily guided; and though they would sometimesindulge their conjectures respecting his singularities, they regardedhim upon the whole with veneration, as a being of a superior order. 

One day, when I had been about three months in the service of my patron, I went to a closet, or small apartment, which was separated from thelibrary by a narrow gallery that was lighted by a small window near theroof. I had conceived that there was no person in the room, and intendedonly to put any thing in order that I might find out of its place. As Iopened the door, I heard at the same instant a deep groan, expressive ofintolerable anguish. The sound of the door in opening seemed to alarmthe person within; I heard the lid of a trunk hastily shut, and thenoise as of fastening a lock. I conceived that Mr. Falkland was there, and was going instantly to retire; but at that moment a voice, thatseemed supernaturally tremendous, exclaimed, Who is there? The voice wasMr. Falkland's. The sound of it thrilled my very vitals. I endeavouredto answer, but my speech failed, and being incapable of any other reply, I instinctively advanced within the door into the room. Mr. Falkland wasjust risen from the floor upon which he had been sitting or kneeling. His face betrayed strong symptoms of confusion. With a violent effort, however, these symptoms vanished, and instantaneously gave place to acountenance sparkling with rage. 

"Villain!" cried he, "what has brought you here?" I hesitated aconfused and irresolute answer. "Wretch!" interrupted Mr. Falkland, withuncontrollable impatience, "you want to ruin me. You set yourself as aspy upon my actions; but bitterly shall you repent your insolence. Doyou think you shall watch my privacies with impunity?" I attempted todefend myself. "Begone, devil!" rejoined he. "Quit the room, or I willtrample you into atoms. " Saying this, he advanced towards me. But I wasalready sufficiently terrified, and vanished in a moment. I heard thedoor shut after me with violence; and thus ended this extraordinaryscene. 

I saw him again in the evening, and he was then tolerably composed. Hisbehaviour, which was always kind, was now doubly attentive and soothing. He seemed to have something of which he wished to disburthen his mind, but to want words in which to convey it. I looked at him with anxietyand affection. He made two unsuccessful efforts, shook his head, andthen putting five guineas into my hand, pressed it in a manner that Icould feel proceeded from a mind pregnant with various emotions, thoughI could not interpret them. Having done this, he seemed immediately torecollect himself, and to take refuge in the usual distance andsolemnity of his manner. 

I easily understood that secrecy was one of the things expected from me;and, indeed, my mind was too much disposed to meditate upon what I hadheard and seen, to make it a topic of indiscriminate communication. Mr. Collins, however, and myself happened to sup together that evening, which was but seldom the case, his avocations obliging him to be muchabroad. He could not help observing an uncommon dejection and anxiety inmy countenance, and affectionately enquired into the reason. Iendeavoured to evade his questions, but my youth and ignorance of theworld gave me little advantage for that purpose. Beside this, I had beenaccustomed to view Mr. Collins with considerable attachment, and Iconceived from the nature of his situation that there could be smallimpropriety in making him my confident in the present instance. Irepeated to him minutely every thing that had passed, and concluded witha solemn declaration that, though treated with caprice, I was notanxious for myself; no inconvenience or danger should ever lead me to apusillanimous behaviour; and I felt only for my patron, who, with everyadvantage for happiness, and being in the highest degree worthy of it, seemed destined to undergo unmerited distress. 

In answer to my communication, Mr. Collins informed me that someincidents, of a nature similar to that which I related, had fallen underhis own knowledge, and that from the whole he could not help concludingthat our unfortunate patron, was at times disordered in his intellects. "Alas!" continued he, "it was not always thus! Ferdinando Falkland wasonce the gayest of the gay. Not indeed of that frothy sort, who excitecontempt instead of admiration, and whose levity argues thoughtlessnessrather than felicity. His gaiety was always accompanied with dignity. Itwas the gaiety of the hero and the scholar. It was chastened withreflection and sensibility, and never lost sight either of good taste orhumanity. Such as it was however, it denoted a genuine hilarity ofheart, imparted an inconceivable brilliancy to his company andconversation, and rendered him the perpetual delight of the diversifiedcircles he then willingly frequented. You see nothing of him, my dearWilliams, but the ruin of that Falkland who was courted by sages, andadored by the fair. His youth, distinguished in its outset by the mostunusual promise, is tarnished. His sensibility is shrunk up and witheredby events the most disgustful to his feelings. His mind was fraught withall the rhapsodies of visionary honour; and, in his sense, nothing butthe grosser part, the mere shell of Falkland, was capable of survivingthe wound that his pride has sustained. "

These reflections of my friend Collins strongly tended to inflame mycuriosity, and I requested him to enter into a more copious explanation. With this request he readily complied; as conceiving that whateverdelicacy it became him to exercise in ordinary cases, it would be out ofplace in my situation; and thinking it not improbable that Mr. Falkland, but for the disturbance and inflammation of his mind, would be disposedto a similar communication. I shall interweave with Mr. Collins's storyvarious information which I afterwards received from other quarters, that I may give all possible perspicuity to the series of events. Toavoid confusion in my narrative, I shall drop the person of Collins, andassume to be myself the historian of our patron. To the reader it mayappear at first sight as if this detail of the preceding life of Mr. Falkland were foreign to my history. Alas! I know from bitter experiencethat it is otherwise. My heart bleeds at the recollection of hismisfortunes, as if they were my own. How can it fail to do so? To hisstory the whole fortune of my life was linked: because he was miserable, my happiness, my name, and my existence have been irretrievably blasted. 

CHAPTER II. 

Among the favourite authors of his early years were the heroic poets ofItaly. From them he imbibed the love of chivalry and romance. He had toomuch good sense to regret the times of Charlemagne and Arthur. But, while his imagination was purged by a certain infusion of philosophy, heconceived that there was in the manners depicted by these celebratedpoets something to imitate, as well as something to avoid. He believedthat nothing was so well calculated to make men delicate, gallant, andhumane, as a temper perpetually alive to the sentiments of birth andhonour. The opinions he entertained upon these topics were illustratedin his conduct, which was assiduously conformed to the model of heroismthat his fancy suggested. 

With these sentiments he set out upon his travels, at the age at whichthe grand tour is usually made; and they were rather confirmed thanshaken by the adventures that befel him. By inclination he was led tomake his longest stay in Italy; and here he fell into company withseveral young noblemen whose studies and principles were congenial tohis own. By them he was assiduously courted, and treated with the mostdistinguished applause. They were delighted to meet with a foreigner, who had imbibed all the peculiarities of the most liberal and honourableamong themselves. Nor was he less favoured and admired by the softersex. Though his stature was small, his person had an air of uncommondignity. His dignity was then heightened by certain additions which wereafterwards obliterated, --an expression of frankness, ingenuity, andunreserve, and a spirit of the most ardent enthusiasm. Perhaps noEnglishman was ever in an equal degree idolised by the inhabitants ofItaly. 

It was not possible for him to have drunk so deeply of the fountain ofchivalry without being engaged occasionally in affairs of honour, all ofwhich were terminated in a manner that would not have disgraced thechevalier Bayard himself. In Italy, the young men of rank dividethemselves into two classes, --those who adhere to the pure principles ofancient gallantry, and those who, being actuated by the same acute senseof injury and insult, accustom themselves to the employment of hiredbravoes as their instruments of vengeance. The whole difference, indeed, consists in the precarious application of a generally receiveddistinction. The most generous Italian conceives that there are certainpersons whom it would be contamination for him to call into the openfield. He nevertheless believes that an indignity cannot be expiated butwith blood, and is persuaded that the life of a man is a triflingconsideration, in comparison of the indemnification to be made to hisinjured honour. There is, therefore, scarcely any Italian that wouldupon some occasions scruple assassination. Men of spirit among them, notwithstanding the prejudices of their education, cannot fail to have asecret conviction of its baseness, and will be desirous of extending asfar as possible the cartel of honour. Real or affected arrogance teachesothers to regard almost the whole species as their inferiors, and ofconsequence incites them to gratify their vengeance without danger totheir persons. Mr. Falkland met with some of these. But his undauntedspirit and resolute temper gave him a decisive advantage even in suchperilous rencounters. One instance, among many, of his manner ofconducting himself among this proud and high-spirited people it may beproper to relate. Mr. Falkland is the principal agent in my history; andMr. Falkland in the autumn and decay of his vigour, such as I found him, cannot be completely understood without a knowledge of his previouscharacter, as it was in all the gloss of youth, yet unassailed byadversity, and unbroken in upon by anguish or remorse. 

At Rome he was received with particular distinction at the house ofmarquis Pisani, who had an only daughter, the heir of his immensefortune, and the admiration of all the young nobility of thatmetropolis. Lady Lucretia Pisani was tall, of a dignified form, anduncommonly beautiful. She was not deficient in amiable qualities, buther soul was haughty, and her carriage not unfrequently contemptuous. Her pride was nourished by the consciousness of her charms, by herelevated rank, and the universal adoration she was accustomed toreceive. 

Among her numerous lovers count Malvesi was the individual most favouredby her father, nor did his addresses seem indifferent to her. The countwas a man of considerable accomplishments, and of great integrity andbenevolence of disposition. But he was too ardent a lover, to be ablealways to preserve the affability of his temper. The admirers whoseaddresses were a source of gratification to his mistress, were aperpetual uneasiness to him. Placing his whole happiness in thepossession of this imperious beauty, the most trifling circumstanceswere capable of alarming him for the security of his pretensions. Butmost of all he was jealous of the English cavalier. Marquis Pisani, whohad spent many years in France, was by no means partial to thesuspicious precautions of Italian fathers, and indulged his daughter inconsiderable freedoms. His house and his daughter, within certainjudicious restraints, were open to the resort of male visitants. But, above all, Mr. Falkland, as a foreigner, and a person little likely toform pretensions to the hand of Lucretia, was received upon a footing ofgreat familiarity. The lady herself, conscious of innocence, entertainedno scruple about trifles, and acted with the confidence and frankness ofone who is superior to suspicion. 

Mr. Falkland, after a residence of several weeks at Rome, proceeded toNaples. Meanwhile certain incidents occurred that delayed the intendednuptials of the heiress of Pisani. When he returned to Rome CountMalvesi was absent. Lady Lucretia, who had been considerably amusedbefore with the conversation of Mr. Falkland, and who had an active andenquiring mind, had conceived, in the interval between his first andsecond residence at Rome, a desire to be acquainted with the Englishlanguage, inspired by the lively and ardent encomiums of our bestauthors that she had heard from their countryman. She had providedherself with the usual materials for that purpose, and had made someprogress during his absence. But upon his return she was forward to makeuse of the opportunity, which, if missed, might never occur again withequal advantage, of reading select passages of our poets with anEnglishman of uncommon taste and capacity. 

This proposal necessarily led to a more frequent intercourse. When CountMalvesi returned, he found Mr. Falkland established almost as an inmateof the Pisani palace. His mind could not fail to be struck with thecriticalness of the situation. He was perhaps secretly conscious thatthe qualifications of the Englishman were superior to his own; and hetrembled for the progress that each party might have made in theaffection of the other, even before they were aware of the danger. Hebelieved that the match was in every respect such as to flatter theambition of Mr. Falkland; and he was stung even to madness by the ideaof being deprived of the object dearest to his heart by this tramontaneupstart. 

He had, however, sufficient discretion first to demand an explanation ofLady Lucretia. She, in the gaiety of her heart, trifled with hisanxiety. His patience was already exhausted, and he proceeded in hisexpostulation, in language that she was by no means prepared to endurewith apathy. Lady Lucretia had always been accustomed to deference andsubmission; and, having got over something like terror, that was atfirst inspired by the imperious manner in which she was now catechised, her next feeling was that of the warmest resentment. She disdained tosatisfy so insolent a questioner, and even indulged herself in certainoblique hints calculated to strengthen his suspicions. For some time shedescribed his folly and presumption in terms of the most ludicroussarcasm, and then, suddenly changing her style, bid him never let hersee him more except upon the footing of the most distant acquaintance, as she was determined never again to subject herself to so unworthy atreatment. She was happy that he had at length disclosed to her his truecharacter, and would know how to profit of her present experience toavoid a repetition of the same danger. All this passed in the fullcareer of passion on both sides, and Lady Lucretia had no time toreflect upon what might be the consequence of thus exasperating herlover. 

Count Malvesi left her in all the torments of frenzy. He believed thatthis was a premeditated scene, to find a pretence for breaking off anengagement that was already all but concluded; or, rather, his mind wasracked with a thousand conjectures: he alternately thought that theinjustice might be hers or his own; and he quarrelled with LadyLucretia, himself, and the whole world. In this temper he hastened tothe hotel of the English cavalier. The season of expostulation was nowover, and he found himself irresistibly impelled to justify hisprecipitation with the lady, by taking for granted that the subject ofhis suspicion was beyond the reach of doubt. 

Mr. Falkland was at home. The first words of the count were an abruptaccusation of duplicity in the affair of Lady Lucretia, and a challenge. The Englishman had an unaffected esteem for Malvesi, who was in realitya man of considerable merit, and who had been one of Mr. Falkland'searliest Italian acquaintance, they having originally met at Milan. Butmore than this, the possible consequence of a duel in the presentinstance burst upon his mind. He had the warmest admiration for LadyLucretia, though his feelings were not those of a lover; and he knewthat, however her haughtiness might endeavour to disguise it, she wasimpressed with a tender regard for Count Malvesi. He could not bear tothink that any misconduct of his should interrupt the prospects of sodeserving a pair. Guided by these sentiments, he endeavoured toexpostulate with the Italian. But his attempts were ineffectual. Hisantagonist was drunk with choler, and would not listen to a word thattended to check the impetuosity of his thoughts. He traversed the roomwith perturbed steps, and even foamed with anguish and fury. Mr. Falkland, finding that all was to no purpose, told the count, that, ifhe would return to-morrow at the same hour, he would attend him to anyscene of action he should think proper to select. 

From Count Malvesi Mr. Falkland immediately proceeded to the palace ofPisani. Here he found considerable difficulty in appeasing theindignation of Lady Lucretia. His ideas of honour would by no meansallow him to win her to his purpose by disclosing the cartel he hadreceived; otherwise that disclosure would immediately have operated asthe strongest motive that could have been offered to this disdainfulbeauty. But, though she dreaded such an event, the vague apprehensionwas not strong enough to induce her instantly to surrender all thestateliness of her resentment. Mr. Falkland, however, drew sointeresting a picture of the disturbance of Count Malvesi's mind, andaccounted in so flattering a manner for the abruptness of his conduct, that this, together with the arguments he adduced, completed theconquest of Lady Lucretia's resentment. Having thus far accomplished hispurpose, he proceeded to disclose to her every thing that had passed. 

The next day Count Malvesi appeared, punctual to his appointment, at Mr. Falkland's hotel. Mr. Falkland came to the door to receive him, butrequested him to enter the house for a moment, as he had still an affairof three minutes to despatch. They proceeded to a parlour. Here Mr. Falkland left him, and presently returned leading in Lady Lucretiaherself, adorned in all her charms, and those charms heightened upon thepresent occasion by a consciousness of the spirited and generouscondescension she was exerting. Mr. Falkland led her up to theastonished count; and she, gently laying her hand upon the arm of herlover, exclaimed with the most attractive grace, "Will you allow me toretract the precipitate haughtiness into which I was betrayed?" Theenraptured count, scarcely able to believe his senses, threw himselfupon his knees before her, and stammered out his reply, signifying thatthe precipitation had been all his own, that he only had any forgivenessto demand, and, though they might pardon, he could never pardon himselffor the sacrilege he had committed against her and this god-likeEnglishman. As soon as the first tumults of his joy had subsided, Mr. Falkland addressed him thus:--

"Count Malvesi, I feel the utmost pleasure in having thus by peacefulmeans disarmed your resentment, and effected your happiness. But I mustconfess, you put me to a severe trial. My temper is not less impetuousand fiery than your own, and it is not at all times that I should havebeen thus able to subdue it. But I considered that in reality theoriginal blame was mine. Though your suspicion was groundless, it wasnot absurd. We have been trifling too much in the face of danger. Iought not, under the present weakness of our nature and forms ofsociety, to have been so assiduous in my attendance upon this enchantingwoman. It would have been little wonder, if, having so manyopportunities, and playing the preceptor with her as I have done, I hadbeen entangled before I was aware, and harboured a wish which I mightnot afterwards have had courage to subdue. I owed you an atonement forthis imprudence. 

"But the laws of honour are in the utmost degree rigid; and there wasreason to fear that, however anxious I were to be your friend, I mightbe obliged to be your murderer. Fortunately, the reputation of mycourage is sufficiently established, not to expose it to any impeachmentby my declining your present defiance. It was lucky, however, that inour interview of yesterday you found me alone, and that accident bythat means threw the management of the affair into my disposal. If thetransaction should become known, the conclusion will now become knownalong with the provocation, and I am satisfied. But if the challenge hadbeen public, the proofs I had formerly given of courage would not haveexcused my present moderation; and, though desirous to have avoided thecombat, it would not have been in my power. Let us hence each of uslearn to avoid haste and indiscretion, the consequences of which may beinexpiable but with blood; and may Heaven bless you in a consort of whomI deem you every way worthy!"

I have already said that this was by no means the only instance, in thecourse of his travels, in which Mr. Falkland acquitted himself in themost brilliant manner as a man of gallantry and virtue. He continuedabroad during several years, every one of which brought some freshaccession to the estimation in which he was held, as well as to his ownimpatience of stain or dishonour. At length he thought proper to returnto England, with the intention of spending the rest of his days at theresidence of his ancestors. 

CHAPTER III. 

From the moment he entered upon the execution of this purpose, dictatedas it probably was by an unaffected principle of duty, his misfortunestook their commencement. All I have further to state of his history isthe uninterrupted persecution of a malignant destiny, a series ofadventures that seemed to take their rise in various accidents, butpointing to one termination. Him they overwhelmed with an anguish hewas of all others least qualified to bear; and these waters ofbitterness, extending beyond him, poured their deadly venom upon others. I being myself the most unfortunate of their victims. 

The person in whom these calamities originated was Mr. Falkland'snearest neighbour, a man of estate equal to his own, by name BarnabasTyrrel. This man one might at first have supposed of all others leastqualified from instruction, or inclined by the habits of his life, todisturb the enjoyments of a mind so richly endowed as that of Mr. Falkland. Mr. Tyrrel might have passed for a true model of the Englishsquire. He was early left under the tuition of his mother, a woman ofnarrow capacity, and who had no other child. The only remaining memberof the family it may be necessary to notice was Miss Emily Melville, theorphan daughter of Mr. Tyrrel's paternal aunt; who now resided in thefamily mansion, and was wholly dependent on the benevolence of itsproprietors. 

Mrs. Tyrrel appeared to think that there was nothing in the world soprecious as her hopeful Barnabas. Every thing must give way to hisaccommodation and advantage; every one must yield the most servileobedience to his commands. He must not be teased or restricted by anyforms of instruction; and of consequence his proficiency, even in thearts of writing and reading, was extremely slender. From his birth hewas muscular and sturdy; and, confined to the _ruelle_ of his mother, hemade much such a figure as the whelp-lion that a barbarian might havegiven for a lap-dog to his mistress. 

But he soon broke loose from these trammels, and formed an acquaintancewith the groom and the game-keeper. Under their instruction he proved asready a scholar, as he had been indocile and restive to the pedant whoheld the office of his tutor. It was now evident that his smallproficiency in literature was by no means to be ascribed to want ofcapacity. He discovered no contemptible sagacity and quick-wittedness inthe science of horse-flesh, and was eminently expert in the arts ofshooting, fishing, and hunting. Nor did he confine himself to these, butadded the theory and practice of boxing, cudgel play, and quarter-staff. These exercises added ten-fold robustness and vigour to his formerqualifications. 

His stature, when grown, was somewhat more than five feet ten inches inheight, and his form might have been selected by a painter as a modelfor that hero of antiquity, whose prowess consisted in felling an oxwith his fist, and devouring him at a meal. Conscious of his advantagein this respect, he was insupportably arrogant, tyrannical to hisinferiors, and insolent to his equals. The activity of his mind beingdiverted from the genuine field of utility and distinction, showeditself in the rude tricks of an overgrown lubber. Here, as in all hisother qualifications, he rose above his competitors; and if it had beenpossible to overlook the callous and unrelenting disposition which theymanifested, one could scarcely have denied his applause to the inventionthese freaks displayed, and the rough, sarcastic wit with which theywere accompanied. 

Mr. Tyrrel was by no means inclined to permit these extraordinary meritsto rust in oblivion. There was a weekly assembly at the nearestmarket-town, the resort of all the rural gentry. Here he had hithertofigured to the greatest advantage as grand master of the _coterie_, noone having an equal share of opulence, and the majority, though stillpretending to the rank of gentry, greatly his inferior in this essentialarticle. The young men in this circle looked up to this insolent bashawwith timid respect, conscious of the comparative eminence thatunquestionably belonged to the powers of his mind; and he well knew howto maintain his rank with an inflexible hand. Frequently indeed herelaxed his features, and assumed a temporary appearance of affablenessand familiarity; but they found by experience, that if any one, encouraged by his condescension, forgot the deference which Mr. Tyrrelconsidered as his due, he was soon taught to repent his presumption. Itwas a tiger that thought proper to toy with a mouse, the little animalevery moment in danger of being crushed by the fangs of his ferociousassociate. As Mr. Tyrrel had considerable copiousness of speech, and arich, but undisciplined imagination, he was always sure of an audience. His neighbours crowded round, and joined in the ready laugh, partly fromobsequiousness, and partly from unfeigned admiration. It frequentlyhappened, however; that, in the midst of his good humour, acharacteristic refinement of tyranny would suggest itself to his mind. When his subjects, encouraged by his familiarity, had discarded theirprecaution, the wayward fit would seize him, a sudden cloud overspreadhis brow, his voice transform from the pleasant to the terrible, and aquarrel of a straw immediately ensue with the first man whose face hedid not like. The pleasure that resulted to others from the exuberantsallies of his imagination was, therefore, not unalloyed with suddenqualms of apprehension and terror. It may be believed that thisdespotism did not gain its final ascendancy without being contested inthe outset. But all opposition was quelled with a high hand by thisrural Antaeus. By the ascendancy of his fortune, and his character amonghis neighbours, he always reduced his adversary to the necessity ofencountering him at his own weapons, and did not dismiss him withoutmaking him feel his presumption through every joint in his frame. Thetyranny of Mr. Tyrrel would not have been so patiently endured, had nothis colloquial accomplishments perpetually come in aid of that authoritywhich his rank and prowess originally obtained. 

The situation of our squire with the fair was still more enviable thanthat which he maintained among persons of his own sex. Every mothertaught her daughter to consider the hand of Mr. Tyrrel as the highestobject of her ambition. Every daughter regarded his athletic form andhis acknowledged prowess with a favourable eye. A form eminentlyathletic is, perhaps, always well proportioned; and one of thequalifications that women are early taught to look for in the male sex, is that of a protector. As no man was adventurous enough to contest hissuperiority, so scarcely any woman in this provincial circle would havescrupled to prefer his addresses to those of any other admirer. Hisboisterous wit had peculiar charms for them; and there was no spectaclemore flattering to their vanity, than seeing this Hercules exchange hisclub for a distaff. It was pleasing to them to consider, that the fangsof this wild beast, the very idea of which inspired trepidation into theboldest hearts, might be played with by them with the utmost security. 

Such was the rival that Fortune, in her caprice, had reserved for theaccomplished Falkland. This untamed, though not undiscerning brute, wasfound capable of destroying the prospects of a man the most eminentlyqualified to enjoy and to communicate happiness. The feud that sprung upbetween them was nourished by concurring circumstances, till it attaineda magnitude difficult to be paralleled; and, because they regarded eachother with a deadly hatred, I have become an object of misery andabhorrence. 

The arrival of Mr. Falkland gave an alarming shock to the authority ofMr. Tyrrel in the village assembly and in all scenes of indiscriminateresort. His disposition by no means inclined him to withhold himselffrom scenes of fashionable amusement; and he and his competitor werelike two stars fated never to appear at once above the horizon. Theadvantages Mr. Falkland possessed in the comparison are palpable; andhad it been otherwise, the subjects of his rural neighbour weresufficiently disposed to revolt against his merciless dominion. They hadhitherto submitted from fear, and not from love; and, if they had notrebelled, it was only for want of a leader. Even the ladies regarded Mr. Falkland with particular complacence. His polished manners werepeculiarly in harmony with feminine delicacy. The sallies of his witwere far beyond those of Mr. Tyrrel in variety and vigour; in additionto which they had the advantage of having their spontaneous exuberanceguided and restrained by the sagacity of a cultivated mind. The gracesof his person were enhanced by the elegance of his deportment; and thebenevolence and liberality of his temper were upon all occasionsconspicuous. It was common indeed to Mr. Tyrrel, together with Mr. Falkland, to be little accessible to sentiments of awkwardness andconfusion. But for this Mr. Tyrrel was indebted to a self-satisfiedeffrontery, and a boisterous and over-bearing elocution, by which he wasaccustomed to discomfit his assailants; while Mr. Falkland, with greatingenuity and candour of mind, was enabled by his extensive knowledge ofthe world, and acquaintance with his own resources, to perceive almostinstantaneously the proceeding it most became him to adopt. 

Mr. Tyrrel contemplated the progress of his rival with uneasiness andaversion. He often commented upon it to his particular confidents as athing altogether inconceivable. Mr. Falkland he described as an animalthat was beneath contempt. Diminutive and dwarfish in his form, hewanted to set up a new standard of human nature, adapted to hismiserable condition. He wished to persuade people that the human specieswere made to be nailed to a chair, and to pore over books. He would havethem exchange those robust exercises which make us joyous in theperformance, and vigorous in the consequences, for the wise labour ofscratching our heads for a rhyme and counting our fingers for a verse. Monkeys were as good men as these. A nation of such animals would haveno chance with a single regiment of the old English votaries of beef andpudding. He never saw any thing come of learning but to make peoplefoppish and impertinent; and a sensible man would not wish a worsecalamity to the enemies of his nation, than to see them run mad aftersuch pernicious absurdities. It was impossible that people couldseriously feel any liking for such a ridiculous piece of goods as thisoutlandish foreign-made Englishman. But he knew very well how it was: itwas a miserable piece of mummery that was played only in spite of him. But God for ever blast his soul, if he were not bitterly revenged uponthem all!

If such were the sentiments of Mr. Tyrrel, his patience found ampleexercise in the language which was held by the rest of his neighbours onthe same subject. While he saw nothing in Mr. Falkland but matter ofcontempt, they appeared to be never weary of recounting his praises. Such dignity, such affability, so perpetual an attention to thehappiness of others, such delicacy of sentiment and expression! Learnedwithout ostentation, refined without foppery, elegant withouteffeminacy! Perpetually anxious to prevent his superiority from beingpainfully felt, it was so much the more certainly felt to be real, andexcited congratulation instead of envy in the spectator. It is scarcelynecessary to remark, that the revolution of sentiment in this ruralvicinity belongs to one of the most obvious features of the human mind. The rudest exhibition of art is at first admired, till a nobler ispresented, and we are taught to wonder at the facility with which beforewe had been satisfied. Mr. Tyrrel thought there would be no end to thecommendation; and expected when their common acquaintance would falldown and adore the intruder. The most inadvertent expression of applauseinflicted upon him the torment of demons. He writhed with agony, hisfeatures became distorted, and his looks inspired terror. Such sufferingwould probably have soured the kindest temper; what must have been itseffect upon Mr. Tyrrel's, always fierce, unrelenting, and abrupt?

The advantages of Mr. Falkland seemed by no means to diminish with theirnovelty. Every new sufferer from Mr. Tyrrel's tyranny immediately wentover to the standard of his adversary. The ladies, though treated bytheir rustic swain with more gentleness than the men, were occasionallyexposed to his capriciousness and insolence. They could not helpremarking the contrast between these two leaders in the fields ofchivalry, the one of whom paid no attention to any one's pleasure buthis own, while the other seemed all good-humour and benevolence. It wasin vain that Mr. Tyrrel endeavoured to restrain the ruggedness of hischaracter. His motive was impatience, his thoughts were gloomy, and hiscourtship was like the pawings of an elephant. It appeared as if histemper had been more human while he indulged in its free bent, than nowthat he sullenly endeavoured to put fetters upon its excesses. 

Among the ladies of the village-assembly already mentioned, there wasnone that seemed to engage more of the kindness of Mr. Tyrrel than MissHardingham. She was also one of the few that had not yet gone over tothe enemy, either because she really preferred the gentleman who was heroldest acquaintance, or that she conceived from calculation this conductbest adapted to insure her success in a husband. One day, however, shethought proper, probably only by way of experiment, to show Mr. Tyrrelthat she could engage in hostilities, if he should at any time give hersufficient provocation. She so adjusted her manoeuvres as to be engagedby Mr. Falkland as his partner for the dance of the evening, thoughwithout the smallest intention on the part of that gentleman (who wasunpardonably deficient in the sciences of anecdote and match-making) ofgiving offence to his country neighbour. Though the manners of Mr. Falkland were condescending and attentive, his hours of retirement wereprincipally occupied in contemplations too dignified for scandal, andtoo large for the altercations of a vestry, or the politics of anelection-borough. 

A short time before the dances began, Mr. Tyrrel went up to his fairinamorata, and entered into some trifling conversation with her to fillup the time, as intending in a few minutes to lead her forward to thefield. He had accustomed himself to neglect the ceremony of solicitingbeforehand a promise in his favour, as not supposing it possible thatany one would dare dispute his behests; and, had it been otherwise, hewould have thought the formality unnecessary in this case, his generalpreference to Miss Hardingham being notorious. 

While he was thus engaged, Mr. Falkland came up. Mr. Tyrrel alwaysregarded him with aversion and loathing. Mr. Falkland, however, slidedin a graceful and unaffected manner into the conversation already begun;and the animated ingenuousness of his manner was such, as might for thetime have disarmed the devil of his malice. Mr. Tyrrel probablyconceived that his accosting Miss Hardingham was an accidental piece ofgeneral ceremony, and expected every moment when he would withdraw toanother part of the room. 

The company now began to be in motion for the dance, and Mr. Falklandsignified as much to Miss Hardingham. "Sir, " interrupted Mr. Tyrrelabruptly, "that lady is my partner. "--"I believe not, sir: that lady hasbeen so obliging as to accept my invitation. "--"I tell you, sir, no. Sir, I have an interest in that lady's affections; and I will suffer noman to intrude upon my claims. "--"The lady's affections are not thesubject of the present question. "--"Sir, it is to no purpose to parley. Make room, sir!"--Mr. Falkland gently repelled his antagonist. "Mr. Tyrrel!" returned he, with some firmness, "let us have no altercation inthis business: the master of the ceremonies is the proper person todecide in a difference of this sort, if we cannot adjust it: we canneither of us intend to exhibit our valour before the ladies, and shalltherefore cheerfully submit to his verdict. "--"Damn me, sir, if Iunderstand--" "Softly, Mr. Tyrrel; I intended you no offence. But, sir, no man shall prevent my asserting that to which I have once acquired aclaim!"

Mr. Falkland uttered these words with the most unruffled temper in theworld. The tone in which he spoke had acquired elevation, but neitherroughness nor impatience. There was a fascination in his manner thatmade the ferociousness of his antagonist subside into impotence. MissHardingham had begun to repent of her experiment, but her alarm wasspeedily quieted by the dignified composure of her new partner. Mr. Tyrrel walked away without answering a word. He muttered curses as hewent, which the laws of honour did not oblige Mr. Falkland to overhear, and which indeed it would have been no easy task to have overheard withaccuracy. Mr. Tyrrel would not, perhaps, have so easily given up hispoint, had not his own good sense presently taught him, that, howevereager he might be for revenge, this was not the ground he should desireto occupy. But, though he could not openly resent this rebellion againsthis authority, he brooded over it in the recesses of a malignant mind;and it was evident enough that he was accumulating materials for abitter account, to which he trusted his adversary should one day bebrought. 

CHAPTER IV. 

This was only one out of innumerable instances, that every day seemed tomultiply, of petty mortifications which Mr. Tyrrel was destined toendure on the part of Mr. Falkland. In all of them Mr. Falklandconducted himself with such unaffected propriety, as perpetually to addto the stock of his reputation. The more Mr. Tyrrel struggled with hismisfortune, the more conspicuous and inveterate it became. A thousandtimes he cursed his stars, which took, as he apprehended, a maliciouspleasure in making Mr. Falkland, at every turn, the instrument of hishumiliation. Smarting under a succession of untoward events, heappeared to feel, in the most exquisite manner, the distinctions paid tohis adversary, even in those points in which he had not the slightestpretensions. An instance of this now occurred. 

Mr. Clare, a poet whose works have done immortal honour to the countrythat produced him, had lately retired, after a life spent in thesublimest efforts of genius, to enjoy the produce of his economy, andthe reputation he had acquired, in this very neighbourhood. Such aninmate was looked up to by the country gentlemen with a degree ofadoration. They felt a conscious pride in recollecting that the boast ofEngland was a native of their vicinity; and they were by no meansdeficient in gratitude when they saw him, who had left them anadventurer, return into the midst of them, in the close of his days, crowned with honours and opulence. The reader is acquainted with hisworks: he has, probably, dwelt upon them with transport; and I need notremind him of their excellence: but he is, perhaps, a stranger to hispersonal qualifications; he does not know that his productions werescarcely more admirable than his conversation. In company he seemed tobe the only person ignorant of the greatness of his fame. To the worldhis writings will long remain a kind of specimen of what the human mindis capable of performing; but no man perceived their defects so acutelyas he, or saw so distinctly how much yet remained to be effected: healone appeared to look upon his works with superiority and indifference. One of the features that most eminently distinguished him was aperpetual suavity of manners, a comprehensiveness of mind, that regardedthe errors of others without a particle of resentment, and made itimpossible for any one to be his enemy. He pointed out to men theirmistakes with frankness and unreserve, his remonstrances producedastonishment and conviction, but without uneasiness, in the party towhom they were addressed: they felt the instrument that was employed tocorrect their irregularities, but it never mangled what it was intendedto heal. Such were the moral qualities that distinguished him among hisacquaintance. The intellectual accomplishments he exhibited were, principally, a tranquil and mild enthusiasm, and a richness ofconception which dictated spontaneously to his tongue, and flowed withso much ease, that it was only by retrospect you could be made aware ofthe amazing variety of ideas that had been presented. 

Mr. Clare certainly found few men in this remote situation that werecapable of participating in his ideas and amusements. It has been amongthe weaknesses of great men to fly to solitude, and converse with woodsand groves, rather than with a circle of strong and comprehensive mindslike their own. From the moment of Mr. Falkland's arrival in theneighbourhood, Mr. Clare distinguished him in the most flatteringmanner. To so penetrating a genius there was no need of long experienceand patient observation to discover the merits and defects of anycharacter that presented itself. The materials of his judgment had longsince been accumulated; and, at the close of so illustrious a life, hemight almost be said to see through nature at a glance. What wonder thathe took some interest in a mind in a certain degree congenial with hisown? But to Mr. Tyrrel's diseased imagination, every distinctionbestowed on his neighbour seemed to be expressly intended as an insultto him. On the other hand, Mr. Clare, though gentle and benevolent inhis remonstrances to a degree that made the taking offence impossible, was by no means parsimonious of praise, or slow to make use of thedeference that was paid him, for the purpose of procuring justice tomerit. 

It happened at one of those public meetings at which Mr. Falkland andMr. Tyrrel were present, that the conversation, in one of the mostnumerous sets into which the company was broken, turned upon thepoetical talents of the former. A lady, who was present, and wasdistinguished for the acuteness of her understanding, said, she had beenfavoured with a sight of a poem he had just written, entitled _An Ode tothe Genius of Chivalry_, which appeared to her of exquisite merit. Thecuriosity of the company was immediately excited, and the lady added, she had a copy in her pocket, which was much at their service, providedits being thus produced would not be disagreeable to the author. Thewhole circle immediately entreated Mr. Falkland to comply with theirwishes, and Mr. Clare, who was one of the company, enforced theirpetition. Nothing gave this gentleman so much pleasure as to have anopportunity of witnessing and doing justice to the exhibition ofintellectual excellence. Mr. Falkland had no false modesty oraffectation, and therefore readily yielded his consent. 

Mr. Tyrrel accidentally sat at the extremity of this circle. It cannotbe supposed that the turn the conversation had taken was by any meansagreeable to him. He appeared to wish to withdraw himself, but thereseemed to be some unknown power that, as it were by enchantment, retained him in his place, and made him consent to drink to the dregsthe bitter potion which envy had prepared for him. 

The poem was read to the rest of the company by Mr. Clare, whoseelocution was scarcely inferior to his other accomplishments. Simplicity, discrimination, and energy constantly attended him in theact of reading, and it is not easy to conceive a more refined delightthan fell to the lot of those who had the good fortune to be hisauditors. The beauties of Mr. Falkland's poem were accordingly exhibitedwith every advantage. The successive passions of the author werecommunicated to the hearer. What was impetuous, and what was solemn, were delivered with a responsive feeling, and a flowing and unlabouredtone. The pictures conjured up by the creative fancy of the poet wereplaced full to view, at one time overwhelming the soul withsuperstitious awe, and at another transporting it with luxuriant beauty. 

The character of the hearers upon this occasion has already beendescribed. They were, for the most part, plain, unlettered, and oflittle refinement. Poetry in general they read, when read at all, fromthe mere force of imitation, and with few sensations of pleasure; butthis poem had a peculiar vein of glowing inspiration. This very poemwould probably have been seen by many of them with little effect; butthe accents of Mr. Clare carried it home to the heart. He ended: and, asthe countenances of his auditors had before sympathised with thepassions of the composition, so now they emulated each other indeclaring their approbation. Their sensations were of a sort to whichthey were little accustomed. One spoke, and another followed by a sortof uncontrollable impulse; and the rude and broken manner of theircommendations rendered them the more singular and remarkable. But whatwas least to be endured was the behaviour of Mr. Clare. He returned themanuscript to the lady from whom he had received it, and then, addressing Mr. Falkland, said with emphasis and animation, "Ha! this isas it should be. It is of the right stamp. I have seen too many hardessays strained from the labour of a pedant, and pastoral dittiesdistressed in lack of a meaning. They are such as you sir, that we want. Do not forget, however, that the Muse was not given to add refinementsto idleness, but for the highest and most invaluable purposes. Act up tothe magnitude of your destiny. "

A moment after, Mr. Clare quitted his seat, and with Mr. Falkland andtwo or three more withdrew. As soon as they were gone, Mr. Tyrrel edgedfurther into the circle. He had sat silent so long that he seemed readyto burst with gall and indignation. "Mighty pretty verses!" said he, half talking to himself, and not addressing any particular person: "why, ay, the verses are well enough. Damnation! I should like to know what aship-load of such stuff is good for. "

"Why, surely, " said the lady who had introduced Mr. Falkland's Ode onthe present occasion, "you must allow that poetry is an agreeable andelegant amusement. "

"Elegant, quotha!--Why, look at this Falkland! A puny bit of a thing! Inthe devil's name, madam, do you think he would write poetry if he coulddo any thing better?"

The conversation did not stop here. The lady expostulated. Several otherpersons, fresh from the sensation they had felt, contributed theirshare. Mr. Tyrrel grew more violent in his invectives, and found ease inuttering them. The persons who were able in any degree to check hisvehemence were withdrawn. One speaker after another shrunk back intosilence, too timid to oppose, or too indolent to contend with, thefierceness of his passion. He found the appearance of his oldascendancy; but he felt its deceitfulness and uncertainty, and wasgloomily dissatisfied. 

In his return from this assembly he was accompanied by a young man, whom similitude of manners had rendered one of his principal confidents, and whose road home was in part the same as his own. One might havethought that Mr. Tyrrel had sufficiently vented his spleen in thedialogue he had just been holding. But he was unable to dismiss from hisrecollection the anguish he had endured. "Damn Falkland!" said he. "Whata pitiful scoundrel is here to make all this bustle about! But women andfools always will be fools; there is no help for that! Those that setthem on have most to answer for; and most of all, Mr. Clare. He is a manthat ought to know something of the world, and past being duped bygewgaws and tinsel. He seemed, too, to have some notion of things: Ishould not have suspected him of hallooing to a cry of mongrels withouthonesty or reason. But the world is all alike. Those that seem betterthan their neighbours, are only more artful. They mean the same thing, though they take a different road. He deceived me for a while, but it isall out now. They are the makers of the mischief. Fools might blunder, but they would not persist, if people that ought to set them right didnot encourage them to go wrong. "

A few days after this adventure Mr. Tyrrel was surprised to receive avisit from Mr. Falkland. Mr. Falkland proceeded, without ceremony, toexplain the motive of his coming. 

"Mr. Tyrrel, " said he, "I am come to have an amicable explanation withyou. "

"Explanation! What is my offence?"

"None in the world, sir; and for that reason I conceive this the fittesttime to come to a right understanding. "

"You are in a devil of a hurry, sir. Are you clear that this haste willnot mar, instead of make an understanding?"

"I think I am, sir. I have great faith in the purity of my intentions, and I will not doubt, when you perceive the view with which I come, thatyou will willingly co-operate with it. "

"Mayhap, Mr. Falkland, we may not agree about that. One man thinks oneway, and another man thinks another. Mayhap I do not think I have anygreat reason to be pleased with you already. "

"It may be so. I cannot, however, charge myself with having given youreason to be displeased. "

"Well, sir, you have no right to put me out of humour with myself. Ifyou come to play upon me, and try what sort of a fellow you shall haveto deal with, damn me if you shall have any reason to hug yourself uponthe experiment. "

"Nothing, sir, is more easy for us than to quarrel. If you desire that, there is no fear that you will find opportunities. "

"Damn me, sir, if I do not believe you are come to bully me. "

"Mr. Tyrrel! sir--have a care!"

"Of what, sir!--Do you threaten me? Damn my soul! who are you? what doyou come here for?"

The fieriness of Mr. Tyrrel brought Mr. Falkland to his recollection. 

"I am wrong, " said he. "I confess it. I came for purposes of peace. Withthat view I have taken the liberty to visit you. Whatever thereforemight be my feelings upon another occasion, I am bound to suppress themnow, "

"Ho!--Well, sir: and what have you further to offer?"

"Mr. Tyrrel, " proceeded Mr. Falkland, "you will readily imagine thatthe cause that brought me was not a slight one. I would not havetroubled you with visit, but for important reasons. My coming is apledge how deeply I am myself impressed with what I have to communicate. 

"We are in a critical situation. We are upon the brink of a whirlpoolwhich, if once it get hold of us, will render all further deliberationimpotent. An unfortunate jealousy seems to have insinuated itselfbetween us, which I would willingly remove; and I come to ask yourassistance. We are both of us nice of temper; we are both apt to kindle, and warm of resentment. Precaution in this stage can be dishonourable toneither; the time may come when we shall wish we had employed it, andfind it too late. Why should we be enemies? Our tastes are different;our pursuits need not interfere. We both of us amply possess the meansof happiness; We may be respected by all, and spend a long life oftranquillity and enjoyment. Will it be wise in us to exchange thisprospect for the fruits of strife? A strife between persons with ourpeculiarities and our weaknesses, includes consequences that I shudderto think of. I fear, sir, that it is pregnant with death at least to oneof us, and with misfortune and remorse to the survivor. "

"Upon my soul, you are a strange man! Why trouble me with yourprophecies and forebodings?"

"Because it is necessary to your happiness I Because it becomes me totell you of our danger now, rather than wait till my character willallow this tranquillity no longer!

"By quarrelling we shall but imitate the great mass of mankind, whocould easily quarrel in our place. Let us do better. Let us show that wehave the magnanimity to contemn petty misunderstandings. By thusjudging we shall do ourselves most substantial honour. By a contraryconduct we shall merely present a comedy for the amusement of ouracquaintance. "

"Do you think so? there may be something in that. Damn me, if I consentto be the jest of any man living. "

"You are right, Mr. Tyrrel. Let us each act in the manner bestcalculated to excite respect. We neither of us wish to change roads; letus each suffer the other to pursue his own track unmolested. Be this ourcompact; and by mutual forbearance let us preserve mutual peace. "

Saying this, Mr. Falkland offered his hand to Mr. Tyrrel in token offellowship. But the gesture was too significant. The wayward rustic, whoseemed to have been somewhat impressed by what had preceded, taken as henow was by surprise, shrunk back. Mr. Falkland was again ready to takefire upon this new slight, but he checked himself. 

"All this is very unaccountable, " cried Mr. Tyrrel. "What the devil canhave made you so forward, if you had not some sly purpose to answer, bywhich I am to be overreached?"

"My purpose, " replied Mr. Falkland, "is a manly and an honest purpose. Why should you refuse a proposition dictated by reason, and an equalregard to the interest of each?"

Mr. Tyrrel had had an opportunity for pause, and fell back into hishabitual character. 

"Well, sir, in all this I must own there is some frankness. Now I willreturn you like for like. It is no matter how I came by it, my temper isrough, and will not be controlled. Mayhap you may think it is aweakness, but I do not desire to see it altered. Till you came, I foundmyself very well: I liked my neighbours, and my neighbours humoured me. But now the case is entirely altered; and, as long as I cannot stirabroad without meeting with some mortification in which you are directlyor remotely concerned, I am determined to hate you. Now, sir, if youwill only go out of the county or the kingdom, to the devil if youplease, so as I may never hear of you any more, I will promise never toquarrel with you as long as I live. Your rhymes and your rebusses, yourquirks and your conundrums, may then be every thing that is grand forwhat I care. "

"Mr. Tyrrel, be reasonable! Might not I as well desire you to leave thecounty, as you desire me? I come to you, not as to a master, but anequal. In the society of men we must have something to endure, as wellas to enjoy. No man must think that the world was made for him. Let ustake things as we find them; and accommodate ourselves as we can tounavoidable circumstances. "

"True, sir; all this is fine talking. But I return to my text: we are asGod made us. I am neither a philosopher nor a poet, to set out upon awild-goose chase of making myself a different man from what you find me. As for consequences, what must be must be. As we brew we must bake. Andso, do you see? I shall not trouble myself about what is to be, butstand up to it with a stout heart when it comes. Only this I can tellyou, that as long as I find you thrust into my dish every day I shallhate you as bad as senna and valerian. And damn me, if I do not think Ihate you the more for coming to-day in this pragmatical way, when nobodysent for you, on purpose to show how much wiser you are than all theworld besides. "

"Mr. Tyrrel, I have done. I foresaw consequences, and came as a friend. I had hoped that, by mutual explanation, we should have come to a betterunderstanding. I am disappointed; but, perhaps, when you coolly reflecton what has passed, you will give me credit for my intentions, and thinkthat my proposal was not an unreasonable one. "

Having said this, Mr. Falkland departed. Through the interview he, nodoubt, conducted himself in a way that did him peculiar credit. Yet thewarmth of his temper could not be entirely suppressed: and even when hewas most exemplary, there was an apparent loftiness in his manner thatwas calculated to irritate; and the very grandeur with which hesuppressed his passions, operated indirectly as a taunt to his opponent. The interview was prompted by the noblest sentiments; but itunquestionably served to widen the breach it was intended to heal. 

For Mr. Tyrrel, he had recourse to his old expedient, and unburthenedthe tumult of his thoughts to his confidential friend. "This, " cried he, "is a new artifice of the fellow, to prove his imagined superiority. Weknew well enough that he had the gift of the gab. To be sure, if theworld were to be governed by words, he would be in the right box. Oh, yes, he had it all hollow! But what signifies prating? Business must bedone in another guess way than that. I wonder what possessed me that Idid not kick him I But that is all to come. This is only a new debtadded to the score, which he shall one day richly pay. This Falklandhaunts me like a demon. I cannot wake but I think of him. I cannot sleepbut I see him. He poisons all my pleasures. I should be glad to see himtorn with tenter-hooks, and to grind his heart-strings with my teeth. Ishall know no joy till I see him ruined. There may be some things rightabout him; but he is my perpetual torment. The thought of him hangslike a dead weight upon my heart, and I have a right to shake it off. Does he think I will feel all that I endure for nothing?"

In spite of the acerbity of Mr. Tyrrel's feelings, it is probable, however, he did some justice to his rival. He regarded him, indeed, withadded dislike; but he no longer regarded him as a despicable foe. Heavoided his encounter; he forbore to treat him with random hostility; heseemed to lie in wait for his victim, and to collect his venom for amortal assault. 

CHAPTER V. 

It was not long after that a malignant distemper broke out in theneighbourhood, which proved fatal to many of the inhabitants, and was ofunexampled rapidity in its effects. One of the first persons that wasseized with it was Mr. Clare. It may be conceived, what grief and alarmthis incident spread through the vicinity. Mr. Clare was considered bythem as something more than mortal. The equanimity of his behaviour, hisunassuming carriage, his exuberant benevolence and goodness of heart, joined with his talents, his inoffensive wit, and the comprehensivenessof his intelligence, made him the idol of all that knew him. In thescene of his rural retreat, at least, he had no enemy. All mourned thedanger that now threatened him. He appeared to have had the prospect oflong life, and of going down to his grave full of years and of honour. Perhaps these appearances were deceitful. Perhaps the intellectualefforts he had made, which were occasionally more sudden, violent, andunintermitted, than a strict regard to health would have dictated, hadlaid the seed of future disease. But a sanguine observer wouldinfallibly have predicted, that his temperate habits, activity of mind, and unabated cheerfulness, would be able even to keep death at bay for atime, and baffle the attacks of distemper, provided their approach werenot uncommonly rapid and violent. The general affliction, therefore, wasdoubly pungent upon the present occasion. 

But no one was so much affected as Mr. Falkland. Perhaps no man so wellunderstood the value of the life that was now at stake. He immediatelyhastened to the spot; but he found some difficulty in gaining admission. Mr. Clare, aware of the infectious nature of his disease, had givendirections that as few persons as possible should approach him. Mr. Falkland sent up his name. He was told that he was included in thegeneral orders. He was not, however, of a temper to be easily repulsed;he persisted with obstinacy, and at length carried his point, being onlyreminded in the first instance to employ those precautions whichexperience has proved most effectual for counteracting infection. 

He found Mr. Clare in his bed-chamber, but not in bed. He was sitting inhis night-gown at a bureau near the window. His appearance was composedand cheerful, but death was in his countenance. "I had a greatinclination, Falkland, " said he, "not to have suffered you to come in;and yet there is not a person in the world it could give me morepleasure to see. But, upon second thoughts, I believe there are fewpeople that could run into a danger of this kind with a better prospectof escaping. In your case, at least, the garrison will not, I trust, betaken through the treachery of the commander. I cannot tell how it isthat I, who can preach wisdom to you, have myself been caught. But donot be discouraged by my example. I had no notice of my danger, or Iwould have acquitted myself better. "

Mr. Falkland having once established himself in the apartment of hisfriend, would upon no terms consent to retire. Mr. Clare considered thatthere was perhaps less danger in this choice, than in the frequentchange from the extremes of a pure to a tainted air, and desisted fromexpostulation. "Falkland, " said he, "when you came in, I had justfinished making my will. I was not pleased with what I had formerlydrawn up upon that subject, and I did not choose in my present situationto call in an attorney. In fact, it would be strange if a man of sense, with pure and direct intentions, should not be able to perform such afunction for himself. "

Mr. Clare continued to act in the same easy and disengaged manner as inperfect health. To judge from the cheerfulness of his tone and thefirmness of his manner, the thought would never once have occurred thathe was dying. He walked, he reasoned, he jested, in a way that arguedthe most perfect self-possession. But his appearance changed perceptiblyfor the worse every quarter of an hour. Mr. Falkland kept his eyeperpetually fixed upon him, with mingled sentiments of anxiety andadmiration. 

"Falkland, " said he, after having appeared for a short period absorbedin thought, "I feel that I am dying. This is a strange distemper ofmine. Yesterday I seemed in perfect health, and to-morrow I shall be aninsensible corpse. How curious is the line that separates life and deathto mortal men! To be at one moment active, gay, penetrating, with storesof knowledge at one's command, capable of delighting, instructing, andanimating mankind, and the next, lifeless and loathsome, an incumbranceupon the face of the earth! Such is the history of many men, and suchwill be mine. 

"I feel as if I had yet much to do in the world; but it will not be. Imust be contented with what is past. It is in vain that I muster all myspirits to my heart. The enemy is too mighty and too merciless for me;he will not give me time so much as to breathe. These things are not yetat least in our power: they are parts of a great series that isperpetually flowing. The general welfare, the great business of theuniverse, will go on, though I bear no further share in promoting it. That task is reserved for younger strengths, for you, Falkland, and suchas you. We should be contemptible indeed if the prospect of humanimprovement did not yield us a pure and perfect delight, independentlyof the question of our existing to partake of it. Mankind would havelittle to envy to future ages, if they had all enjoyed a serenity asperfect as mine has been for the latter half of my existence. "

Mr. Clare sat up through the whole day, indulging himself in easy andcheerful exertions, which were perhaps better calculated to refresh andinvigorate the frame, than if he had sought repose in its direct form. Now and then he was visited with a sudden pang; but it was no soonerfelt, than he seemed to rise above it, and smiled at the impotence ofthese attacks. They might destroy him, but they could not disturb. Threeor four times he was bedewed with profuse sweats; and these again weresucceeded by an extreme dryness and burning heat of the skin. He wasnext covered with small livid spots: symptoms of shivering followed, butthese he drove away with a determined resolution. He then becametranquil and composed, and, after some time, decided to go to bed, itbeing already night. "Falkland, " said he, pressing his hand, "the taskof dying is not so difficult as some imagine. When one looks back fromthe brink of it, one wonders that so total a subversion can take placeat so easy a price. "

He had now been some time in bed, and, as every thing was still, Mr. Falkland hoped that he slept; but in that he was mistaken. Presently Mr. Clare threw back the curtain, and looked in the countenance of hisfriend. "I cannot sleep, " said he. "No, if I could sleep, it would bethe same thing as to recover; and I am destined to have the worst inthis battle. 

"Falkland, I have been thinking about you. I do not know any one whosefuture usefulness I contemplate with greater hope. Take care ofyourself. Do not let the world be defrauded of your virtues. I amacquainted with your weakness as well as your strength. You have animpetuosity, and an impatience of imagined dishonour, that, if once setwrong, may make you as eminently mischievous as you will otherwise beuseful. Think seriously of exterminating this error!

"But if I cannot, in the brief expostulation my present situation willallow, produce this desirable change in you, there is at least one thingI can do. I can put you upon your guard against a mischief I foresee tobe imminent. Beware of Mr. Tyrrel. Do not commit the mistake ofdespising him as an unequal opponent. Petty causes may produce greatmischiefs. Mr. Tyrrel is boisterous, rugged, and unfeeling; and you aretoo passionate, too acutely sensible of injury. It would be truly to belamented, if a man so inferior, so utterly unworthy to be compared withyou, should be capable of changing your whole history into misery andguilt. I have a painful presentiment upon my heart, as if somethingdreadful would reach you from that quarter. Think of this. I exact nopromise from you. I would not shackle you with the fetters ofsuperstition; I would have you governed by justice and reason. "

Mr. Falkland was deeply affected with this expostulation. His sense ofthe generous attention of Mr. Clare at such a moment, was so great asalmost to deprive him of utterance. He spoke in short sentences, andwith visible effort. "I will behave better, " replied he. "Never fear me!Your admonitions shall not be thrown away upon me. "

Mr. Clare adverted to another subject. "I have made you my executor; youwill not refuse me this last office of friendship. It is but a shorttime that I have had the happiness of knowing you; but in that shorttime I have examined you well, and seen you thoroughly. Do notdisappoint the sanguine hope I have entertained!

"I have left some legacies. My former connections, while I lived amidstthe busy haunts of men, as many of them as were intimate, are all ofthem dear to me. I have not had time to summon them about me upon thepresent occasion, nor did I desire it. The remembrances of me will, Ihope, answer a better purpose than such as are usually thought of onsimilar occasions. "

Mr. Clare, having thus unburthened his mind, spoke no more for severalhours. Towards morning Mr. Falkland quietly withdrew the curtain, andlooked at the dying man. His eyes were open, and were now gently turnedtowards his young friend. His countenance was sunk, and of a death-likeappearance. "I hope you are better, " said Falkland in a half whisper, asif afraid of disturbing him. Mr. Clare drew his hand from thebed-clothes, and stretched it forward; Mr. Falkland advanced, and tookhold of it. "Much better, " said Mr. Clare, in a voice inward and hardlyarticulate; "the struggle is now over; I have finished my part;farewell! remember!" These were his last words. He lived still a fewhours; his lips were sometimes seen to move; he expired without a groan. 

Mr. Falkland had witnessed the scene with much anxiety. His hopes of afavourable crisis, and his fear of disturbing the last moments of hisfriend, had held him dumb. For the last half hour he had stood up, withhis eyes intently fixed upon Mr. Clare. He witnessed the last gasp, thelast little convulsive motion of the frame. He continued to look; hesometimes imagined that he saw life renewed. At length he could deceivehimself no longer, and exclaimed with a distracted accent, "And is thisall?" He would have thrown himself upon the body of his friend; theattendants withheld, and would have forced him into another apartment. But he struggled from them, and hung fondly over the bed. "Is this theend of genius, virtue, and excellence? Is the luminary of the world thusfor ever gone? Oh, yesterday! yesterday! Clare, why could not I havedied in your stead? Dreadful moment! Irreparable loss! Lost in the verymaturity and vigour of his mind! Cut off from a usefulness ten thousandtimes greater than any he had already exhibited! Oh, his was a mind tohave instructed sages, and guided the moral world! This is all we haveleft of him! The eloquence of those lips is gone! The incessant activityof that heart is still! The best and wisest of men is gone, and theworld is insensible of its loss!"

Mr. Tyrrel heard the intelligence of Mr. Clare's death with emotion, butof a different kind. He avowed that he had not forgiven him his partialattachment to Mr. Falkland, and therefore could not recall hisremembrance with kindness. But if he could have overlooked his pastinjustice, sufficient care, it seems, was taken to keep alive hisresentment. "Falkland, forsooth, attended him on his death-bed, as ifnobody else were worthy of his confidential communications. " But whatwas worst of all was this executorship. "In every thing this pragmaticalrascal throws me behind. Contemptible wretch, that has nothing of theman about him! Must he perpetually trample upon his betters? Is everybody incapable of saying what kind of stuff a man is made of? caughtwith mere outside? choosing the flimsy before the substantial? And uponhis death-bed too? [Mr. Tyrrel with his uncultivated brutality mixed, asusually happens, certain rude notions of religion. ] Sure the sense ofhis situation might have shamed him. Poor wretch! his soul has a greatdeal to answer for. He has made my pillow uneasy; and, whatever may bethe consequences, it is he we have to thank for them. "

The death of Mr. Clare removed the person who could most effectuallyhave moderated the animosities of the contending parties, and took awaythe great operative check upon the excesses of Mr. Tyrrel. This rustictyrant had been held in involuntary restraint by the intellectualascendancy of his celebrated neighbour: and, notwithstanding the generalferocity of his temper, he did not appear till lately to haveentertained a hatred against him. In the short time that had elapsedfrom the period in which Mr. Clare had fixed his residence in theneighbourhood, to that of the arrival of Mr. Falkland from theContinent, the conduct of Mr. Tyrrel had even shown tokens ofimprovement. He would indeed have been better satisfied not to have hadeven this intruder into a circle where he had been accustomed to reign. But with Mr. Clare he could have no rivalship; the venerable characterof Mr. Clare disposed him to submission: this great man seemed to havesurvived all the acrimony of contention, and all the jealous subtletiesof a mistaken honour. 

The effects of Mr. Clare's suavity however, so far as related to Mr. Tyrrel, had been in a certain degree suspended by considerations ofrivalship between this gentleman and Mr. Falkland. And, now that theinfluence of Mr. Clare's presence and virtues was entirely removed, Mr. Tyrrel's temper broke out into more criminal excesses than ever. Theadded gloom which Mr. Falkland's neighbourhood inspired, overflowed uponall his connections; and the new examples of his sullenness and tyrannywhich every day afforded, reflected back upon this accumulated andportentous feud. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The consequences of all this speedily manifested themselves. The verynext incident in the story was in some degree decisive of thecatastrophe. Hitherto I have spoken only of preliminary matters, seemingly unconnected with each other, though leading to that state ofmind in both parties which had such fatal effects. But all that remainsis rapid and tremendous. The death-dealing mischief advances with anaccelerated motion, appearing to defy human wisdom and strength toobstruct its operation. 

The vices of Mr. Tyrrel, in their present state of augmentation, werepeculiarly exercised upon his domestics and dependents. But theprincipal sufferer was the young lady mentioned on a former occasion, the orphan daughter of his father's sister. Miss Melville's mother hadmarried imprudently, or rather unfortunately, against the consent of herrelations, all of whom had agreed to withdraw their countenance from herin consequence of that precipitate step. Her husband had turned out tobe no better than an adventurer; had spent her fortune, which inconsequence of the irreconcilableness of her family was less than heexpected, and had broken her heart. Her infant daughter was left withoutany resource. In this situation the representations of the people withwhom she happened to be placed, prevailed upon Mrs. Tyrrel, the motherof the squire, to receive her into her family. In equity, perhaps, shewas entitled to that portion of fortune which her mother had forfeitedby her imprudence, and which had gone to swell the property of the malerepresentative. But this idea had never entered into the conceptions ofeither mother or son. Mrs, Tyrrel conceived that she performed an act ofthe most exalted benevolence in admitting Miss Emily into a sort ofequivocal situation, which was neither precisely that of a domestic, noryet marked with the treatment that might seem due to one of the family. 

She had not, however, at first been sensible of all the mortificationsthat might have been expected from her condition. Mrs. Tyrrel, thoughproud and imperious, was not ill-natured. The female, who lived in thefamily in the capacity of housekeeper, was a person who had seen betterdays, and whose disposition was extremely upright and amiable. She earlycontracted a friendship for the little Emily, who was indeed for themost part committed to her care. Emily, on her side, fully repaid theaffection of her instructress, and learned with great docility the fewaccomplishments Mrs. Jakeman was able to communicate. But most of allshe imbibed her cheerful and artless temper, that extracted theagreeable and encouraging from all events, and prompted her tocommunicate her sentiments, which were never of the cynical cast, without modification or disguise. Besides the advantages Emily derivedfrom Mrs. Jakeman, she was permitted to take lessons from the masterswho were employed at Tyrrel Place for the instruction of her cousin; andindeed, as the young gentleman was most frequently indisposed to attendto them, they would commonly have had nothing to do, had it not been forthe fortunate presence of Miss Melville. Mrs. Tyrrel thereforeencouraged the studies of Emily on that score; in addition to which sheimagined that this living exhibition of instruction might operate as anindirect allurement to her darling Barnabas, the only species of motiveshe would suffer to be presented. Force she absolutely forbade; and ofthe intrinsic allurements of literature and knowledge she had noconception. 

Emily, as she grew up, displayed an uncommon degree of sensibility, which under her circumstances would have been a source of perpetualdissatisfaction, had it not been qualified with an extreme sweetness andeasiness of temper. She was far from being entitled to the appellationof a beauty. Her person was _petite_ and trivial; her complexionsavoured of the _brunette_; and her face was marked with the small-pox, sufficiently to destroy its evenness and polish, though not enough todestroy its expression. But, though her appearance was not beautiful, itdid not fail to be in a high degree engaging. Her complexion was at oncehealthful and delicate; her long dark eye-brows adapted themselves withfacility to the various conceptions of her mind; and her looks bore theunited impression of an active discernment and a good-humouredfrankness. The instruction she had received, as it was entirely of acasual nature, exempted her from the evils of untutored ignorance, butnot from a sort of native wildness, arguing a mind incapable of guileitself, or of suspecting it in others. She amused, without seemingconscious of the refined sense which her observations contained; orrather, having never been debauched with applause, she set light by herown qualifications, and talked from the pure gaiety of a youthful heartacting upon the stores of a just understanding, and not with anyexpectation of being distinguished and admired. 

The death of her aunt made very little change in her situation. Thisprudent lady, who would have thought it little less than sacrilege tohave considered Miss Melville as a branch of the stock of the Tyrrels, took no more notice of her in her will than barely putting her down forone hundred pounds in a catalogue of legacies to her servants. She hadnever been admitted into the intimacy and confidence of Mrs. Tyrrel; andthe young squire, now that she was left under his sole protection, seemed inclined to treat her with even more liberality than his motherhad done. He had seen her grow up under his eye, and therefore, thoughthere were but six years difference in their ages, he felt a kind ofpaternal interest in her welfare. Habit had rendered her in a mannernecessary to him, and, in every recess from the occupations of the fieldand the pleasures of the table, he found himself solitary and forlornwithout the society of Miss Melville. Nearness of kindred, and Emily'swant of personal beauty, prevented him from ever looking on her with theeyes of desire. Her accomplishments were chiefly of the customary andsuperficial kind, dancing and music. Her skill in the first led himsometimes to indulge her with a vacant corner in his carriage, when hewent to the neighbouring assembly; and, in whatever light he mighthimself think proper to regard her, he would have imagined hischambermaid, introduced by him, entitled to an undoubted place in themost splendid circle. Her musical talents were frequently employed forhis amusement. She had the honour occasionally of playing him to sleepafter the fatigues of the chase; and, as he had some relish forharmonious sounds, she was frequently able to soothe him by their meansfrom the perturbations of which his gloomy disposition was so eminentlya slave. Upon the whole, she might be considered as in some sort hisfavourite. She was the mediator to whom his tenants and domestics, whenthey had incurred his displeasure, were accustomed to apply; theprivileged companion, that could approach this lion with impunity in themidst of his roarings. She spoke to him without fear; her solicitationswere always good-natured and disinterested; and when he repulsed her, hedisarmed himself of half his terrors, and was contented to smile at herpresumption. 

Such had been for some years the situation of Miss Melville. Itsprecariousness had been beguiled by the uncommon forbearance with whichshe was treated by her savage protector. But his disposition, alwaysbrutal, had acquired a gradual accession of ferocity since thesettlement of Mr. Falkland in his neighbourhood. He now frequentlyforgot the gentleness with which he had been accustomed to treat hisgood-natured cousin. Her little playful arts were not always successfulin softening his rage; and he would sometimes turn upon herblandishments with an impatient sternness that made her tremble. Thecareless ease of her disposition, however, soon effaced theseimpressions, and she fell without variation into her old habits. 

A circumstance occurred about this time which gave peculiar strength tothe acrimony of Mr. Tyrrel, and ultimately brought to its close thefelicity that Miss Melville, in spite of the frowns of fortune, hadhitherto enjoyed. Emily was exactly seventeen when Mr. Falkland returnedfrom the continent. At this age she was peculiarly susceptible of thecharms of beauty, grace, and moral excellence, when united in a personof the other sex. She was imprudent, precisely because her own heart wasincapable of guile. She had never yet felt the sting of the poverty towhich she was condemned, and had not reflected on the insuperabledistance that custom has placed between the opulent and the poorerclasses of the community. She beheld Mr. Falkland, whenever he wasthrown in her way at any of the public meetings, with admiration; and, without having precisely explained to herself the sentiments sheindulged, her eyes followed him through all the changes of the scene, with eagerness and impatience. She did not see him, as the rest of theassembly did, born to one of the amplest estates in the county, andqualified to assert his title to the richest heiress. She thought onlyof Falkland, with those advantages which were most intimately his own, and of which no persecution of adverse fortune had the ability todeprive him. In a word, she was transported when he was present; he wasthe perpetual subject of her reveries and her dreams; but his imageexcited no sentiment in her mind beyond that of the immediate pleasureshe took in his idea. 

The notice Mr. Falkland bestowed on her in return, appeared sufficientlyencouraging to a mind so full of prepossession as that of Emily. Therewas a particular complacency in his looks when directed towards her. Hehad said in a company, of which one of the persons present repeated hisremarks to Miss Melville, that she appeared to him amiable andinteresting; that he felt for her unprovided and destitute situation;and that he should have been glad to be more particular in his attentionto her, had he not been apprehensive of doing her a prejudice in thesuspicious mind of Mr. Tyrrel. All this she considered as the ravishingcondescension of a superior nature; for, if she did not recollect withsufficient assiduity his gifts of fortune, she was, on the other hand, filled with reverence for his unrivalled accomplishments. But, while shethus seemingly disclaimed all comparison between Mr. Falkland andherself, she probably cherished a confused feeling as if some event, that was yet in the womb of fate, might reconcile things apparently themost incompatible. Fraught with these prepossessions, the civilitiesthat had once or twice occurred in the bustle of a public circle, therestoring her fan which she had dropped, or the disembarrassing her ofan empty tea-cup, made her heart palpitate, and gave birth to thewildest chimeras in her deluded imagination. 

About this time an event happened, that helped to give a precisedetermination to the fluctuations of Miss Melville's mind. One evening, a short time after the death of Mr. Clare, Mr. Falkland had been at thehouse of his deceased friend in his quality of executor, and, by someaccidents of little intrinsic importance, had been detained three orfour hours later than he expected. He did not set out upon his returntill two o'clock in the morning. At this time, in a situation so remotefrom the metropolis, every thing is as silent as it would be in aregion wholly uninhabited. The moon shone bright; and the objects aroundbeing marked with strong variations of light and shade, gave a kind ofsacred solemnity to the scene. Mr. Falkland had taken Collins with him, the business to be settled at Mr. Clare's being in some respects similarto that to which this faithful domestic had been accustomed in theroutine of his ordinary service. They had entered into someconversation, for Mr. Falkland was not then in the habit of obliging thepersons about him by formality and reserve to recollect who he was. Theattractive solemnity of the scene made him break off the talk somewhatabruptly, that he might enjoy it without interruption. They had notridden far, before a hollow wind seemed to rise at a distance, and theycould hear the hoarse roarings of the sea. Presently the sky on one sideassumed the appearance of a reddish brown, and a sudden angle in theroad placed this phenomenon directly before them. As they proceeded, itbecame more distinct, and it was at length sufficiently visible that itwas occasioned by a fire. Mr. Falkland put spurs to his horse; and, asthey approached, the object presented every instant a more alarmingappearance. The flames ascended with fierceness; they embraced a largeportion of the horizon; and, as they carried up with them numerouslittle fragments of the materials that fed them, impregnated with fire, and of an extremely bright and luminous colour, they presented somefeeble image of the tremendous eruption of a volcano. 

The flames proceeded from a village directly in their road. There wereeight or ten houses already on fire, and the whole seemed to bethreatened with immediate destruction. The inhabitants were in theutmost consternation, having had no previous experience of a similarcalamity. They conveyed with haste their moveables and furniture intothe adjoining fields. When any of them had effected this as far as itcould be attempted with safety, they were unable to conceive any furtherremedy, but stood wringing their hands, and contemplating the ravages ofthe fire in an agony of powerless despair. The water that could beprocured, in any mode practised in that place, was but as a dropcontending with an element in arms. The wind in the mean time wasrising, and the flames spread with more and more rapidity. 

Mr. Falkland contemplated this scene for a few moments, as if ruminatingwith himself as to what could be done. He then directed some of thecountry people about him to pull down a house, next to one that waswholly on fire, but which itself was yet untouched. They seemedastonished at a direction which implied a voluntary destruction ofproperty, and considered the task as too much in the heart of the dangerto be undertaken. Observing that they were motionless, he dismountedfrom his horse, and called upon them in an authoritative voice to followhim. He ascended the house in an instant, and presently appeared uponthe top of it, as if in the midst of the flames. Having, with theassistance of two or three of the persons that followed him mostclosely, and who by this time had supplied themselves with whatevertools came next to hand, loosened the support of a stack of chimneys, hepushed them headlong into the midst of the fire. He passed and repassedalong the roof; and, having set people to work in all parts, descendedin order to see what could be done in any other quarter. At this momentan elderly woman burst from the midst of a house in flames: the utmostconsternation was painted in her looks; and, as soon as she couldrecollect herself enough to have a proper idea of her situation, thesubject of her anxiety seemed, in an instant, to be totally changed. "Where is my child?" cried she, and cast an anxious and piercing lookamong the surrounding crowd. "Oh, she is lost! she is in the midst offlames! Save her! save her! my child!" She filled the air withheart-rending shrieks. She turned towards the house. The people thatwere near endeavoured to prevent her, but she shook them off in amoment. She entered the passage; viewed the hideous ruin; and was thengoing to plunge into the blazing staircase. Mr. Falkland saw, pursued, and seized her by the arm; it was Mrs. Jakeman. "Stop!" he cried, with avoice of grand, yet benevolent authority. "Remain you in the street! Iwill seek, and will save her!" Mrs. Jakeman obeyed. He charged thepersons who were near to detain her; he enquired which was the apartmentof Emily. Mrs. Jakeman was upon a visit to a sister who lived in thevillage, and had brought Emily along with her. Mr. Falkland ascended aneighbouring house, and entered that in which Emily was, by a window inthe roof. 

He found her already awaked from her sleep; and, becoming sensible ofher danger, she had that instant wrapped a loose gown round her. Such isthe almost irresistible result of feminine habits; but, having donethis, she examined the surrounding objects with the wildness of despair. Mr. Falkland entered the chamber. She flew into his arms with therapidity of lightning. She embraced and clung to him, with an impulsethat did not wait to consult the dictates of her understanding. Heremotions were indescribable. In a few short moments she had lived an agein love. In two minutes Mr. Falkland was again in the street with hislovely, half-naked burthen in his arms. Having restored her to heraffectionate protector, snatched from the immediate grasp of death, fromwhich, if he had not, none would have delivered her, he returned to hisformer task. By his presence of mind, by his indefatigable humanity andincessant exertions, he saved three fourths of the village fromdestruction. 

The conflagration being at length abated, he sought again Mrs. Jakemanand Emily, who by this time had obtained a substitute for the garmentsshe had lost in the fire. He displayed the tenderest solicitude for theyoung lady's safety, and directed Collins to go with as much speed as hecould, and send his chariot to attend her. More than an hour elapsed inthis interval. Miss Melville had never seen so much of Mr. Falkland uponany former occasion; and the spectacle of such humanity, delicacy, firmness, and justice in the form of man, as he crowded into this smallspace, was altogether new to her, and in the highest degree fascinating. She had a confused feeling as if there had been something indecorous inher behaviour or appearance, when Mr. Falkland had appeared to herrelief; and this combined with her other emotions to render the wholecritical and intoxicating. 

Emily no sooner arrived at the family mansion, than Mr. Tyrrel ran outto receive her. He had just heard of the melancholy accident that hadtaken place at the village, and was terrified for the safety of hisgood-humoured cousin. He displayed those unpremeditated emotions whichare common to almost every individual of the human race. He was greatlyshocked at the suspicion that Emily might possibly have become thevictim of a catastrophe which had thus broken out in the dead of night. His sensations were of the most pleasing sort when he folded her in hisarms, and fearful apprehension was instantaneously converted intojoyous certainty. Emily no sooner entered under the well known roof thanher spirits were brisk, and her tongue incessant in describing herdanger and her deliverance. Mr. Tyrrel had formerly been tortured withthe innocent eulogiums she pronounced of Mr. Falkland. But these werelameness itself, compared with the rich and various eloquence that nowflowed from her lips. Love had not the same effect upon her, especiallyat the present moment, which it would have had upon a person instructedto feign a blush, and inured to a consciousness of wrong. She describedhis activity and resources, the promptitude with which every thing wasconceived, and the cautious but daring wisdom with which it wasexecuted. All was fairy-land and enchantment in the tenour of herartless tale; you saw a beneficent genius surveying and controlling thewhole, but could have no notion of any human means by which his purposeswere effected. 

Mr. Tyrrel listened for a while to these innocent effusions withpatience; he could even bear to hear the man applauded, by whom he hadjust obtained so considerable a benefit. But the theme by amplificationbecame nauseous, and he at length with some roughness put an end to thetale. Probably, upon recollection, it appeared still more insolent andintolerable than while it was passing; the sensation of gratitude woreoff, but the hyperbolical praise that had been bestowed still hauntedhis memory, and sounded in his ear;--Emily had entered into theconfederacy that disturbed his repose. For herself, she was whollyunconscious of offence, and upon every occasion quoted Mr. Falkland asthe model of elegant manners and true wisdom. She was a total strangerto dissimulation; and she could not conceive that any one beheld thesubject of her admiration with less partiality than herself. Herartless love became more fervent than ever. She flattered herself thatnothing less than a reciprocal passion could have prompted Mr. Falklandto the desperate attempt of saving her from the flames; and she trustedthat this passion would speedily declare itself, as well as induce theobject of her adoration to overlook her comparative unworthiness. 

Mr. Tyrrel endeavoured at first with some moderation to check MissMelville in her applauses, and to convince her by various tokens thatthe subject was disagreeable to him. He was accustomed to treat her withkindness. Emily, on her part, was disposed to yield an unreluctantobedience, and therefore it was not difficult to restrain her. But uponthe very next occasion her favourite topic would force its way to herlips. Her obedience was the acquiescence of a frank and benevolentheart; but it was the most difficult thing in the world to inspire herwith fear. Conscious herself that she would not hurt a worm, she couldnot conceive that any one would harbour cruelty and rancour against her. Her temper had preserved her from obstinate contention with the personsunder whose protection she was placed; and, as her compliance wasunhesitating, she had no experience of a severe and rigorous treatment. As Mr. Tyrrel's objection to the very name of Falkland became morepalpable and uniform, Miss Melville increased in her precaution. Shewould stop herself in the half-pronounced sentences that were meant tohis praise. This circumstance had necessarily an ungracious effect; itwas a cutting satire upon the imbecility of her kinsman. Upon theseoccasions she would sometimes venture upon a good-humouredexpostulation:--"Dear sir! well, I wonder how you can be so ill-natured!I am sure Mr. Falkland would do you any good office in theworld:"--till she was checked by some gesture of impatience andfierceness. 

At length she wholly conquered her heedlessness and inattention. But itwas too late. Mr. Tyrrel already suspected the existence of that passionwhich she had thoughtlessly imbibed. His imagination, ingenious intorment, suggested to him all the different openings in conversation, inwhich she would have introduced the praise of Mr. Falkland, had she notbeen placed under this unnatural restraint. Her present reserve upon thesubject was even more insufferable than her former loquacity. All hiskindness for this unhappy orphan gradually subsided. Her partiality forthe man who was the object of his unbounded abhorrence, appeared to himas the last persecution of a malicious destiny. He figured himself asabout to be deserted by every creature in human form; all men, under theinfluence of a fatal enchantment, approving only what was sophisticatedand artificial, and holding the rude and genuine offspring of nature inmortal antipathy. Impressed with these gloomy presages, he saw MissMelville with no sentiments but those of rancorous aversion; and, accustomed as he was to the uncontrolled indulgence of his propensities, he determined to wreak upon her a signal revenge. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Mr. Tyrrel consulted his old confident respecting the plan he shouldpursue; who, sympathising as he did in the brutality and insolence ofhis friend, had no idea that an insignificant girl, without eitherwealth or beauty, ought to be allowed for a moment to stand in the wayof the gratifications of a man of Mr. Tyrrel's importance. The firstidea of her now unrelenting kinsman was to thrust her from his doors, and leave her to seek her bread as she could. But he was conscious thatthis proceeding would involve him in considerable obloquy; and he atlength fixed upon a scheme which, at the same time that he believed itwould sufficiently shelter his reputation, would much more certainlysecure her mortification and punishment. 

For this purpose he fixed upon a young man of twenty, the son of oneGrimes, who occupied a small farm, the property of his confident. Thisfellow he resolved to impose as a husband on Miss Melville, who, heshrewdly suspected, guided by the tender sentiments she hadunfortunately conceived for Mr. Falkland, would listen with reluctanceto any matrimonial proposal. Grimes he selected as being in all respectsthe diametrical reverse of Mr. Falkland. He was not precisely a lad ofvicious propensities, but in an inconceivable degree boorish anduncouth. His complexion was scarcely human; his features were coarse, and strangely discordant and disjointed from each other. His lips werethick, and the tone of his voice broad and unmodulated. His legs were ofequal size from one end to the other, and his feet misshapen and clumsy. He had nothing spiteful or malicious in his disposition, but he was atotal stranger to tenderness; he could not feel for those refinements inothers, of which he had no experience in himself. He was an expertboxer: his inclination led him to such amusements as were mostboisterous; and he delighted in a sort of manual sarcasm, which he couldnot conceive to be very injurious, as it left no traces behind it. Hisgeneral manners were noisy and obstreperous; inattentive to others; andobstinate and unyielding, not from any cruelty and ruggedness oftemper, but from an incapacity to conceive those finer feelings, thatmake so large a part of the history of persons who are cast in a gentlermould. 

Such was the uncouth and half-civilised animal, which the industriousmalice of Mr. Tyrrel fixed upon as most happily adapted to his purpose. Emily had hitherto been in an unusual degree exempted from theoppression of despotism. Her happy insignificance had served her as aprotection. No one thought it worth his while to fetter her with thosenumerous petty restrictions with which the daughters of opulence arecommonly tormented. She had the wildness, as well as the delicate frame, of the bird that warbles unmolested in its native groves. 

When therefore she heard from her kinsman the proposal of Mr. Grimes fora husband, she was for a moment silent with astonishment at sounexpected a suggestion. But as soon as she recovered her speech, shereplied, "No, sir, I do not want a husband. "

"You do! Are not you always hankering after the men? It is high time youshould be settled. "

"Mr. Grimes! No, indeed! when I do have a husband, it shall not be sucha man as Mr. Grimes neither. "

"Be silent! How dare you give yourself such unaccountable liberties?"

"Lord, I wonder what I should do with him. You might as well give meyour great rough water-dog, and bid me make him a silk cushion to lie inmy dressing-room. Besides, sir, Grimes is a common labouring man, and Iam sure I have always heard my aunt say that ours is a very greatfamily. "

"It is a lie! Our family! have you the impudence to think yourself oneof our family?"

"Why, sir, was not your grandpapa my grandpapa? How then can we be of adifferent family?"

"From the strongest reason in the world. You are the daughter of arascally Scotchman, who spent every shilling of my aunt Lucy's fortune, and left you a beggar. You have got an hundred pounds, and Grimes'sfather promises to give him as much. How dare you look down upon yourequals?"

"Indeed, sir, I am not proud. But, indeed and indeed, I can never loveMr. Grimes. I am very happy as I am: why should I be married?"

"Silence your prating! Grimes will be here this afternoon. Look that youbehave well to him. If you do not, he will remember and repay, when youleast like it. "

"Nay, I am sure, sir--you are not in earnest?"

"Not in earnest! Damn me, but we will see that. I can tell what youwould be at. You had rather be Mr. Falkland's miss, than the wife of aplain downright yeoman. But I shall take care of you. --Ay, this comes ofindulgence. You must be taken down, miss. You must be taught thedifference between high-flown notions and realities. Mayhap you may takeit a little in dudgeon or so; but never mind that. Pride always wants alittle smarting. If you should be brought to shame, it is I that shallbear the blame of it. "

The tone in which Mr. Tyrrel spoke was so different from any thing towhich Miss Melville had been accustomed, that she felt herself whollyunable to determine what construction to put upon it. Sometimes shethought he had really formed a plan for imposing upon her a conditionthat she could not bear so much as to think of. But presently sherejected this idea as an unworthy imputation upon her kinsman, andconcluded that it was only his way, and that all he meant was to tryher. To be resolved however, she determined to consult her constantadviser, Mrs. Jakeman, and accordingly repeated to her what had passed. Mrs. Jakeman saw the whole in a very different light from that in whichEmily had conceived it, and trembled for the future peace of her belovedward. 

"Lord bless me, my dear mamma!" cried Emily, (this was the appellationshe delighted to bestow upon the good housekeeper, ) "you cannot thinkso? But I do not care. I will never marry Grimes, happen what will. "

"But how will you help yourself? My master will oblige you. "

"Nay, now you think you are talking to a child indeed. It is I am tohave the man, not Mr. Tyrrel. Do you think I will let any body elsechoose a husband for me? I am not such a fool as that neither. "

"Ah, Emily! you little know the disadvantages of your situation. Yourcousin is a violent man, and perhaps will turn you out of doors, if youoppose him. "

"Oh, mamma! it is very wicked of you to say so. I am sure Mr. Tyrrel isa very good man, though he be a little cross now and then. He knows verywell that I am right to have a will of my own in such a thing as this, and nobody is punished for doing what is right. "

"Nobody ought, my dear child. But there are very wicked and tyrannicalmen in the world. "

"Well, well, I will never believe my cousin is one of these. "

"I hope he is not. "

"And if he were, what then? To be sure I should he very sorry to makehim angry. "

"What then! Why then my poor Emily would be a beggar. Do you think Icould bear to see that?"

"No, no. Mr. Tyrrel has just told me that I have a hundred pounds. Butif I had no fortune, is not that the case with a thousand other folks?Why should I grieve, for what they bear and are merry? Do not makeyourself uneasy, mamma. I am determined that I will do any thing ratherthan marry Grimes; that is what I will. "

Mrs. Jakeman could not bear the uneasy state of suspense in which thisconversation left her mind, and went immediately to the squire to haveher doubts resolved. The manner in which she proposed the question, sufficiently indicated the judgment she had formed of the match. 

"That is true, " said Mr. Tyrrel, "I wanted to speak to you about thisaffair. The girl has got unaccountable notions in her head, that will bethe ruin of her. You perhaps can tell where she had them. But, be thatas it will, it is high time something should be done. The shortest wayis the best, and to keep things well while they are well. In short, I amdetermined she shall marry this lad: you do not know any harm of him, doyou? You have a good deal of influence with her, and I desire, do yousee, that you will employ it to lead her to her good: you had best, Ican tell you. She is a pert vixen! By and by she would be a whore, andat last no better than a common trull, and rot upon a dunghill, if Iwere not at all these pains to save her from destruction. I would makeher an honest farmer's wife, and my pretty miss cannot bear the thoughtsof it!"

In the afternoon Grimes came according to appointment, and was leftalone with the young lady. 

"Well, miss, " said he, "it seems the squire has a mind to make us manand wife. For my part, I cannot say I should have thought of it. But, being as how the squire has broke the ice, if so be as you like of thematch, why I am your man. Speak the word; a nod is as good as a wink toa blind horse. "

Emily was already sufficiently mortified at the unexpected proposal ofMr. Tyrrel. She was confounded at the novelty of the situation, andstill more at the uncultivated rudeness of her lover, which evenexceeded her expectation. This confusion was interpreted by Grimes intodiffidence. 

"Come, come, never be cast down. Put a good face upon it. What though?My first sweetheart was Bet Butterfield, but what of that? What must bemust be; grief will never fill the belly. She was a fine strappingwench, that is the truth of it! five foot ten inches, and as stout as atrooper. Oh, she would do a power of work! Up early and down late;milked ten cows with her own hands; on with her cardinal, rode to marketbetween her panniers, fair weather and foul, hail, blow, or snow. Itwould have done your heart good to have seen her frost-bitten cheeks, asred as a beefen from her own orchard! Ah! she was a maid of mettle;would romp with the harvestmen, slap one upon the back, wrestle withanother, and had a rogue's trick and a joke for all round. Poor girl!she broke her neck down stairs at a christening. To be sure I shallnever meet with her fellow! But never you mind that; I do not doubt thatI shall find more in you upon further acquaintance. As coy and bashfulas you seem, I dare say you are rogue enough at bottom. When I havetouzled and rumpled you a little, we shall see. I am no chicken, miss, whatever you may think. I know what is what, and can see as far into amillstone as another. Ay, ay; you will come to. The fish will snap atthe bait, never doubt it. Yes, yes, we shall rub on main well together. "

Emily by this time had in some degree mustered up her spirits, andbegan, though with hesitation, to thank Mr. Grimes for his good opinion, but to confess that she could never be brought to favour his addresses. She therefore entreated him to desist from all further application. Thisremonstrance on her part would have become more intelligible, had it notbeen for his boisterous manners and extravagant cheerfulness, whichindisposed him to silence, and made him suppose that at half a word hehad sufficient intimation of another's meaning. Mr. Tyrrel, in the meantime, was too impatient not to interrupt the scene before they couldhave time to proceed far in explanation; and he was studious in thesequel to prevent the young folks from being too intimately acquaintedwith each other's inclinations. Grimes, of consequence, attributed thereluctance of Miss Melville to maiden coyness, and the skittish shynessof an unbroken filly. Indeed, had it been otherwise, it is not probablethat it would have made any effectual impression upon him; as he wasalways accustomed to consider women as made for the recreation of themen, and to exclaim against the weakness of people who taught them toimagine they were to judge for themselves. 

As the suit proceeded, and Miss Melville saw more of her new admirer, her antipathy increased. But, though her character was unspoiled bythose false wants, which frequently make people of family miserablewhile they have every thing that nature requires within their reach, yetshe had been little used to opposition, and was terrified at the growingsternness of her kinsman. Sometimes she thought of flying from a housewhich was now become her dungeon; but the habits of her youth, and herignorance of the world, made her shrink from this project, when shecontemplated it more nearly, Mrs. Jakeman, indeed, could not think withpatience of young Grimes as a husband for her darling Emily; but herprudence determined her to resist with all her might the idea on thepart of the young lady of proceeding to extremities. She could notbelieve that Mr. Tyrrel would persist in such an unaccountablepersecution, and she exhorted Miss Melville to forget for a moment theunaffected independence of her character, and pathetically to deprecateher cousin's obstinacy. She had great confidence in the ingenuouseloquence of her ward. Mrs. Jakeman did not know what was passing in thebreast of the tyrant. 

Miss Melville complied with the suggestion of her mamma. One morningimmediately after breakfast, she went to her harpsichord, and played oneafter another several of those airs that were most the favourites of Mr. Tyrrel. Mrs. Jakeman had retired; the servants were gone to theirrespective employments. Mr. Tyrrel would have gone also; his mind wasuntuned, and he did not take the pleasure he had been accustomed to takein the musical performances of Emily. But her finger was now moretasteful than common. Her mind was probably wrought up to a firmer andbolder tone, by the recollection of the cause she was going to plead; atthe same time that it was exempt from those incapacitating tremors whichwould have been felt by one that dared not look poverty in the face. Mr. Tyrrel was unable to leave the apartment. Sometimes he traversed it withimpatient steps; then he hung over the poor innocent whose powers wereexerted to please him; at length he threw himself in a chair opposite, with his eyes turned towards Emily. It was easy to trace the progress ofhis emotions. The furrows into which his countenance was contracted weregradually relaxed; his features were brightened into a smile; thekindness with which he had upon former occasions contemplated Emilyseemed to revive in his heart. 

Emily watched her opportunity. As soon as she had finished one of thepieces, she rose and went to Mr. Tyrrel. 

"Now, have not I done it nicely? and after this will not you give me areward?"

"A reward! Ay, come here, and I will give you a kiss. "

"No, that is not it. And yet you have not kissed me this many a day. Formerly you said you loved me, and called me your Emily. I am sure youdid not love me better than I loved you. You have not forgot all thekindness you once had for me?" added she anxiously. 

"Forgot? No, no. How can you ask such a question? You shall be my dearEmily still!"

"Ah, those were happy times!" she replied, a little mournfully. "Do youknow, cousin, I wish I could wake, and find that the last month--onlyabout a month--was a dream?"

"What do you mean by that?" said Mr. Tyrrel with an altered voice. "Havea care! Do not put me out of humour. Do not come with your romanticnotions now. "

"No, no: I have no romantic notions in my head. I speak of somethingupon which the happiness of my life depends. "

"I see what you would be at. Be silent. You know it is to no purpose toplague me with your stubbornness. You will not let me be in good humourwith you for a moment. What my mind is determined upon about Grimes, allthe world shall not move me to give up. "

"Dear, dear cousin! why, but consider now. Grimes is a rough rusticlout, like Orson in the story-book. He wants a wife like himself. Hewould be as uneasy and as much at a loss with me, as I with him. Whyshould we both of us be forced to do what neither of us is inclined to?I cannot think what could ever have put it into your head. But now, forgoodness' sake, give it up! Marriage is a serious thing. You should notthink of joining two people for a whim, who are neither of them fit forone another in any respect in the world. We should feel mortified anddisappointed all our lives. Month would go after month, and year afteryear, and I could never hope to be my own, but by the death of a personI ought to love. I am sure, sir, you cannot mean me all this harm. Whathave I done, that I should deserve to have you for an enemy?"

"I am not your enemy. I tell you that it is necessary to put you out ofharm's way. But, if I were your enemy, I could not be a worse torment toyou than you are to me. Are not you continually singing the praises ofFalkland? Are not you in love with Falkland? That man is a legion ofdevils to me! I might as well have been a beggar! I might as well havebeen a dwarf or a monster! Time was when I was thought entitled torespect. But now, debauched by this Frenchified rascal, they call merude, surly, a tyrant! It is true that I cannot talk in finical phrases, flatter people with hypocritical praise, or suppress the real feelingsof my mind. The scoundrel knows his pitiful advantages, and insults meupon them without ceasing. He is my rival and my persecutor; and, atlast, as if all this were not enough, he has found means to spread thepestilence in my own family. You, whom we took up out of charity, thechance-born brat of a stolen marriage! you must turn upon yourbenefactor, and wound me in the point that of all others I could leastbear. If I were your enemy, should not I have reason? Could I everinflict upon you such injuries as you have made me suffer? And who areyou? The lives of fifty such cannot atone for an hour of my uneasiness. If you were to linger for twenty years upon the rack, you would neverfeel what I have felt. But I am your friend. I see which way you aregoing; and I am determined to save you from this thief, thishypocritical destroyer of us all. Every moment that the mischief is leftto itself, it does but make bad worse; and I am determined to save youout of hand. "

The angry expostulations of Mr. Tyrrel suggested new ideas to the tendermind of Miss Melville. He had never confessed the emotions of his soulso explicitly before; but the tempest of his thoughts suffered him to beno longer master of himself. She saw with astonishment that he was theirreconcilable foe of Mr. Falkland, whom she had fondly imagined it wasthe same thing to know and admire; and that he harboured a deep androoted resentment against herself. She recoiled, without well knowingwhy, before the ferocious passions of her kinsman, and was convincedthat she had nothing to hope from his implacable temper. But her alarmwas the prelude of firmness, and not of cowardice. 

"No, sir, " replied she, "indeed I will not be driven any way that youhappen to like. I have been used to obey you, and, in all that isreasonable, I will obey you still. But you urge me too far. What do youtell me of Mr. Falkland? Have I ever done any thing to deserve yourunkind suspicions? I am innocent, and will continue innocent. Mr. Grimesis well enough, and will no doubt find women that like him; but he isnot fit for me, and torture shall not force me to be his wife. "

Mr. Tyrrel was not a little astonished at the spirit which Emilydisplayed upon this occasion. He had calculated too securely upon thegeneral mildness and suavity of her disposition. He now endeavoured toqualify the harshness of his former sentiments. 

"God damn my soul! And so you can scold, can you? You expect every bodyto turn out of his way, and fetch and carry, just as you please? I couldfind in my heart--But you know my mind. I insist upon it that you letGrimes court you, and that you lay aside your sulks, and give him a fairhearing. Will you do that? If then you persist in your wilfulness, whythere, I suppose, is an end of the matter. Do not think that any body isgoing to marry you, whether you will or no. You are no such mightyprize, I assure you. If you knew your own interest, you would be glad totake the young fellow while he is willing. "

Miss Melville rejoiced in the prospect, which the last words of herkinsman afforded her, of a termination at no great distance to herpresent persecutions. Mrs. Jakeman, to whom she communicated them, congratulated Emily on the returning moderation and good sense of thesquire, and herself on her prudence in having urged the young lady tothis happy expostulation. But their mutual felicitations lasted notlong. Mr. Tyrrel informed Mrs. Jakeman of the necessity in which hefound himself of sending her to a distance, upon a business which wouldnot fail to detain her several weeks; and, though the errand by no meanswore an artificial or ambiguous face, the two friends drew a melancholypresage from this ill-timed separation. Mrs. Jakeman, in the mean time, exhorted her ward to persevere, reminded her of the compunction whichhad already been manifested by her kinsman, and encouraged her to hopeevery thing from her courage and good temper. Emily, on her part, thoughgrieved at the absence of her protector and counsellor at so interestinga crisis, was unable to suspect Mr Tyrrel of such a degree either ofmalice or duplicity as could afford ground for serious alarm. Shecongratulated herself upon her delivery from so alarming a persecution, and drew a prognostic of future success from this happy termination ofthe first serious affair of her life. She exchanged a state of fortitudeand alarm for her former pleasing dreams respecting Mr. Falkland. Theseshe bore without impatience. She was even taught by the uncertainty ofthe event to desire to prolong, rather than abridge, a situation whichmight be delusive, but which was not without its pleasures. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Nothing could be further from Mr. Tyrrel's intention than to suffer hisproject to be thus terminated. No sooner was he freed from the fear ofhis housekeeper's interference, than he changed the whole system of hisconduct. He ordered Miss Melville to be closely confined to herapartment, and deprived of all means of communicating her situation toany one out of his own house. He placed over her a female servant, inwhose discretion he could confide, and who, having formerly beenhonoured with the amorous notices of the squire, considered thedistinctions that were paid to Emily at Tyrrel Place as an usurpationupon her more reasonable claims. The squire himself did every thing inhis power to blast the young lady's reputation, and represented to hisattendants these precautions as necessary, to prevent her from elopingto his neighbour, and plunging herself in total ruin. 

As soon as Miss Melville had been twenty-four hours in durance, andthere was some reason to suppose that her spirit might be subdued to theemergency of her situation, Mr. Tyrrel thought proper to go to her, toexplain the grounds of her present treatment, and acquaint her with theonly means by which she could hope for a change. Emily no sooner sawhim, than she turned towards him with an air of greater firmness thanperhaps she had ever assumed in her life, and accosted him thus:--

"Well, sir, is it you? I wanted to see you. It seems I am shut up hereby your orders. What does this mean? What right have you to make aprisoner of me? What do I owe you? Your mother left me a hundred pounds:have you ever offered to make any addition to my fortune? But, if youhad, I do not want it. I do not pretend to be better than the childrenof other poor parents; I can maintain myself as they do. I preferliberty to wealth. I see you are surprised at the resolution I exert. But ought I not to turn again, when I am trampled upon? I should haveleft you before now, if Mrs. Jakeman had not over-persuaded me, and if Ihad not thought better of you than by your present behaviour I find youdeserve. But now, sir, I intend to leave your house this moment, andinsist upon it, that you do not endeavour to prevent me. "

Thus saying, she rose, and went towards the door, while Mr. Tyrrel stoodthunderstruck at her magnanimity. Seeing, however, that she was upon thepoint of being out of the reach of his power, he recovered himself andpulled her back. 

"What is in the wind now? Do you think, strumpet; that you shall getthe better of me by sheer impudence? Sit down! rest you satisfied!--Soyou want to know by what right you are here, do you? By the right ofpossession. This house is mine, and you are in my power. There is noMrs. Jakeman now to spirit you away; no, nor no Falkland to bully foryou. I have countermined you, damn me! and blown up your schemes. Do youthink I will be contradicted and opposed for nothing? When did you everknow any body resist my will without being made to repent? And shall Inow be browbeaten by a chitty-faced girl?--I have not given you afortune! Damn you! who brought you up? I will make you a bill forclothing and lodging. Do not you know that every creditor has a right tostop his runaway debtor. You may think as you please; but here you aretill you marry Grimes. Heaven and earth shall not prevent but I will getthe better of your obstinacy!"

"Ungenerous, unmerciful man! and so it is enough for you that I havenobody to defend me! But I am not so helpless as you may imagine. Youmay imprison my body, but you cannot conquer my mind. Marry Mr. Grimes!And is this the way to bring me to your purpose? Every hardship I sufferputs still further distant the end for which I am thus unjustly treated. You are not used to have your will contradicted! When did I evercontradict it? And, in a concern that is so completely my own, shall mywill go for nothing? Would you lay down this rule for yourself, andsuffer no other creature to take the benefit of it? I want nothing ofyou: how dare you refuse me the privilege of a reasonable being, to liveunmolested in poverty and innocence? What sort of a man do you showyourself, you that lay claim to the respect and applause of every onethat knows you?"

The spirited reproaches of Emily had at first the effect to fill Mr. Tyrrel with astonishment, and make him feel abashed and overawed in thepresence of this unprotected innocent. But his confusion was the resultof surprise. When the first emotion wore off, he cursed himself forbeing moved by her expostulations; and was ten times more exasperatedagainst her, for daring to defy his resentment at a time when she hadevery thing to fear. His despotic and unforgiving propensitiesstimulated him to a degree little short of madness. At the same time hishabits, which were pensive and gloomy, led him to meditate a variety ofschemes to punish her obstinacy. He began to suspect that there waslittle hope of succeeding by open force, and therefore determined tohave recourse to treachery. 

He found in Grimes an instrument sufficiently adapted to his purpose. This fellow, without an atom of intentional malice, was fitted, by themere coarseness of his perceptions, for the perpetration of the greatestinjuries. He regarded both injury and advantage merely as they relatedto the gratifications of appetite; and considered it an essential intrue wisdom, to treat with insult the effeminacy of those who sufferthemselves to be tormented with ideal misfortunes. He believed that nohappier destiny could befal a young woman than to be his wife; and heconceived that that termination would amply compensate for anycalamities she might suppose herself to undergo in the interval. He wastherefore easily prevailed upon, by certain temptations which Mr. Tyrrelknew how to employ, to take part in the plot into which Miss Melvillewas meant to be betrayed. 

Matters being thus prepared, Mr. Tyrrel proceeded, through the means ofthe gaoler (for the experience he already had of personal discussion didnot incline him to repeat his visits), to play upon the fears of hisprisoner. This woman, sometimes under the pretence of friendship, andsometimes with open malice, informed Emily, from time to time, of thepreparations that were making for her marriage. One day, "the squire hadrode over to look at a neat little farm which was destined for thehabitation of the new-married couple;" and at another, "a quantity oflive stock and household furniture was procured, that every thing mightbe ready for their reception. " She then told her "of a licence that wasbought, a parson in readiness, and a day fixed for the nuptials. " WhenEmily endeavoured, though with increased misgivings, to ridicule theseproceedings as absolutely nugatory without her consent, her artfulgouvernante related several stories of forced marriages, and assured herthat neither protestations, nor silence, nor fainting, would be of anyavail, either to suspend the ceremony, or to set it aside whenperformed. 

The situation of Miss Melville was in an eminent degree pitiable. Shehad no intercourse but with her persecutors. She had not a human beingwith whom to consult, who might afford her the smallest degree ofconsolation and encouragement. She had fortitude; but it was neitherconfirmed nor directed by the dictates of experience. It could nottherefore be expected to be so inflexible, as with better information itwould, no doubt, have been found. She had a clear and noble spirit; butshe had some of her sex's errors. Her mind sunk under the uniformterrors with which she was assailed, and her health became visiblyimpaired. 

Her firmness being thus far undermined, Grimes, in pursuance of hisinstructions, took care, in his next interview, to throw out aninsinuation that, for his own part, he had never cared for the match, and since she was so averse to it, would be better pleased that itshould never take place. Between one and the other however, he was gotinto a scrape, and now he supposed he must marry, will he, nill he. Thetwo squires would infallibly ruin him upon the least appearance ofbackwardness on his part, as they were accustomed to do every inferiorthat resisted their will. Emily was rejoiced to find her admirer in sofavourable a disposition; and earnestly pressed him to give effect tothis humane declaration. Her representations were full of eloquence andenergy. Grimes appeared to be moved at the fervency of her manner; butobjected the resentment of Mr. Tyrrel and his landlord. At length, however, he suggested a project, in consequence of which he might assisther in her escape, without its ever coming to their knowledge, as, indeed, there was no likelihood that their suspicions would fix uponhim. "To be sure, " said he, "you have refused me in a disdainful sort ofa way, as a man may say. Mayhap you thought I was no better 'an a brute:but I bear you no malice, and I will show you that I am morekind-hearted 'an you have been willing to think. It is a strange sort ofa vagary you have taken, to stand in your own light, and disoblige allyour friends. But if you are resolute, do you see? I scorn to be thehusband of a lass that is not every bit as willing as I; and so I willeven help to put you in a condition to follow your own inclinations. "

Emily listened to these suggestions at first with eagerness andapprobation. But her fervency somewhat abated, when they came to discussthe minute parts of the undertaking. It was necessary, as Grimesinformed her, that her escape should be effected in the dead of thenight. He would conceal himself for that purpose in the garden, and beprovided with false keys, by which to deliver her from her prison. Thesecircumstances were by no means adapted to calm her perturbedimagination. To throw herself into the arms of the man whose intercourseshe was employing every method to avoid, and whom, under the idea of apartner for life, she could least of all men endure, was, no doubt, anextraordinary proceeding. The attendant circumstances of darkness andsolitude aggravated the picture. The situation of Tyrrel Place wasuncommonly lonely; it was three miles from the nearest village, and notless than seven from that in which Mrs. Jakeman's sister resided, underwhose protection Miss Melville was desirous of placing herself. Theingenuous character of Emily did not allow her once to suspect Grimes ofintending to make an ungenerous and brutal advantage of thesecircumstances; but her mind involuntarily revolted against the idea ofcommitting herself, alone, to the disposal of a man, whom she had latelybeen accustomed to consider as the instrument of her treacherousrelation. 

After having for some time revolved these considerations, she thought ofthe expedient of desiring Grimes to engage Mrs. Jakeman's sister to waitfor her at the outside of the garden. But this Grimes peremptorilyrefused. He even flew into a passion at the proposal. It showed verylittle gratitude, to desire him to disclose to other people his concernin this dangerous affair. For his part, he was determined, inconsideration of his own safety, never to appear in it to any livingsoul. If Miss did not believe him, when he made this proposal out ofpure good-nature, and would not trust him a single inch, she might evensee to the consequences herself. He was resolved to condescend nofurther to the whims of a person who, in her treatment of him, hadshown herself as proud as Lucifer himself. 

Emily exerted herself to appease his resentment; but all the eloquenceof her new confederate could not prevail upon her instantly to give upher objection. She desired till the next day to consider of it. The dayafter was fixed by Mr. Tyrrel for the marriage ceremony. In the meantime she was pestered with intimations, in a thousand forms, of the fatethat so nearly awaited her. The preparations were so continued, methodical, and regular, as to produce in her the most painful andaching anxiety. If her heart attained a moment's intermission upon thesubject, her female attendant was sure, by some sly hint or sarcasticalremark, to put a speedy termination to her tranquillity. She feltherself, as she afterwards remarked, alone, uninstructed, just brokenloose, as it were, from the trammels of infancy, without one singlecreature to concern himself in her fate. She, who till then never knewan enemy, had now, for three weeks, not seen the glimpse of a humancountenance, that she had not good reason to consider as whollyestranged to her at least, if not unrelentingly bent on her destruction. She now, for the first time, experienced the anguish of never havingknown her parents, and being cast upon the charity of people with whomshe had too little equality, to hope to receive from them the offices offriendship. 

The succeeding night was filled with the most anxious thoughts. When amomentary oblivion stole upon her senses, her distempered imaginationconjured up a thousand images of violence and falsehood; she saw herselfin the hands of her determined enemies, who did not hesitate by the mostdaring treachery to complete her ruin. Her waking thoughts were not moreconsoling. The struggle was too great for her constitution. As morningapproached, she resolved, at all hazards, to put herself into the handsof Grimes. This determination was no sooner made, than she felt herheart sensibly lightened. She could not conceive any evil which couldresult from this proceeding, that deserved to be put in the balanceagainst those which, under the roof of her kinsman, appearedunavoidable. 

When she communicated her determination to Grimes, it was not possibleto say whether he received pleasure or pain from the intimation. Hesmiled indeed; but his smile was accompanied by a certain abruptruggedness of countenance, so that it might equally well be the smile ofsarcasm or of congratulation. He, however, renewed his assurances offidelity to his engagements and punctuality of execution. Meanwhile theday was interspersed with nuptial presents and preparations, allindicating the firmness as well as security of the directors of thescene. Emily had hoped that, as the crisis approached, they might haveremitted something of their usual diligence. She was resolved, in thatcase, if a fair opportunity had offered, to give the slip both to herjailors, and to her new and reluctantly chosen confederate. But, thoughextremely vigilant for that purpose, she found the execution of the ideaimpracticable. 

At length the night, so critical to her happiness, approached. The mindof Emily could not fail, on this occasion, to be extremely agitated. Shehad first exerted all her perspicacity to elude the vigilance of herattendant. This insolent and unfeeling tyrant, instead of anyrelentings, had only sought to make sport of her anxiety. Accordingly, in one instance she hid herself, and, suffering Emily to suppose thatthe coast was clear, met her at the end of the gallery, near the top ofthe staircase. "How do you do, my dear?" said she, with an insultingtone. "And so the little dear thought itself cunning enough to outwitme, did it? Oh, it was a sly little gipsy! Go, go back, love; troop!"Emily felt deeply the trick that was played upon her. She sighed, butdisdained to return any answer to this low vulgarity. Being once more inher chamber, she sat down in a chair, and remained buried in reverie formore than two hours. After this she went to her drawers, and turnedover, in a hurrying confused way, her linen and clothes, having in hermind the provision it would be necessary to make for her elopement. Herjailor officiously followed her from place to place, and observed whatshe did for the present in silence. It was now the hour of rest. "Goodnight, child, " said this saucy girl, in the act of retiring. "It is timeto lock up. For the few next hours, the time is your own. Make the bestuse of it! Do'ee think ee can creep out at the key-hole, lovey? At eighto'clock you see me again. And then, and then, " added she, clapping herhands, "it is all over. The sun is not surer to rise, than you and yourhonest man to be made one. "

There was something in the tone with which this slut uttered herfarewell, that suggested the question to Emily, "What does she mean? Isit possible that she should know what has been planned for the few nexthours?"--This was the first moment that suspicion had offered itself, and its continuance was short. With an aching heart she folded up thefew necessaries she intended to take with her. She instinctivelylistened, with an anxiety that would almost have enabled her to hear thestirring of a leaf. From time to time she thought her ear was struckwith the sound of feet; but the treading, if treading it were, was sosoft, that she could never ascertain whether it were a real sound, orthe mere creature of the fancy. Then all was still, as if the universalmotion had been at rest. By and by she conceived she overheard a noiseas of buzzing and low-muttered speech. Her heart palpitated; for asecond time she began to doubt the honesty of Grimes. The suggestion wasnow more anxious than before; but it was too late. Presently she heardthe sound of a key in her chamber-door, and the rustic made hisappearance. She started, and cried, "Are we discovered? did not I hearyou speak?" Grimes advanced on tiptoe with his finger to his lip. "No, no, " replied he, "all is safe!" He took her by the hand, led her insilence out of the house, and then across the garden. Emily examinedwith her eye the doors and passages as they proceeded, and looked on allsides with fearful suspicion; but every thing was as vacant and still asshe herself could have wished. Grimes opened a back-door of the gardenalready unlocked, that led into an unfrequented lane. There stood twohorses ready equipped for the journey, and fastened by their bridles toa post not six yards distant from the garden. Grimes pushed the doorafter them. 

"By Gemini, " said he, "my heart was in my mouth. As I comed along toyou, I saw Mun, coachey, pop along from the back-door to the stables. Hewas within a hop, step, and jump of me. But he had a lanthorn in hishand, and he did not see me, being as I was darkling. " Saying this, heassisted Miss Melville to mount. He troubled her little during theroute; on the contrary, he was remarkably silent and contemplative, acircumstance by no means disagreeable to Emily, to whom his conversationhad never been acceptable. 

After having proceeded about two miles, they turned into a wood, throughwhich the road led to the place of their destination. The night wasextremely dark, at the same time that the air was soft and mild, itbeing now the middle of summer. Under pretence of exploring the way, Grimes contrived, when they had already penetrated into the midst ofthis gloomy solitude, to get his horse abreast with that of MissMelville, and then, suddenly reaching out his hand, seized hold of herbridle. "I think we may as well stop here a bit, " said he. 

"Stop!" exclaimed Emily with surprise; "why should we stop? Mr. Grimes, what do you mean?"

"Come, come, " said he, "never trouble yourself to wonder. Did you thinkI were such a goose, to take all this trouble merely to gratify yourwhim? I' faith, nobody shall find me a pack-horse, to go of other folks'errands, without knowing a reason why. I cannot say that I much mindedto have you at first; but your ways are enough to stir the blood of mygrand-dad. Far-fetched and dear-bought is always relishing. Your consentwas so hard to gain, that squire thought it was surest asking in thedark. A' said however, a' would have no such doings in his house, andso, do ye see, we are comed here. "

"For God's sake, Mr. Grimes, think what you are about! You cannot bebase enough to ruin a poor creature who has put herself under yourprotection!

"Ruin! No, no, I will make an honest woman of you, when all is done. Nay, none of your airs; no tricks upon travellers! I have you here assafe AS a horse in a pound; there is not a house nor a shed within amile of us; and, if I miss the opportunity, call me spade. Faith, youare a delicate morsel, and there is no time to be lost!"

Miss Melville had but an instant in which to collect her thoughts. Shefelt that there was little hope of softening the obstinate andinsensible brute in whose power she was placed. But the presence of mindand intrepidity annexed to her character did not now desert her. Grimeshad scarcely finished his harangue, when, with a strong and unexpectedjerk, she disengaged the bridle from his grasp, and at the same time puther horse upon full speed. She had scarcely advanced twice the length ofher horse, when Grimes recovered from his surprise, and pursued her, inexpressibly mortified at being so easily overreached. The sound of hishorse behind served but to rouse more completely the mettle of that ofEmily; whether by accident or sagacity, the animal pursued without afault the narrow and winding way; and the chase continued the wholelength of the wood. 

At the extremity of this wood there was a gate. The recollection of thissoftened a little the cutting disappointment of Grimes, as he thoughthimself secure of putting an end, by its assistance, to the career ofEmily; nor was it very probable that any body would appear to interrupthis designs, in such a place, and in the dead and silence of the night. By the most extraordinary accident, however, they found a man onhorseback in wait at this gate. "Help, help!" exclaimed the affrightedEmily; "thieves! murder! help!" The man was Mr. Falkland. Grimes knewhis voice; and therefore, though he attempted a sort of sullenresistance, it was feebly made. Two other men, whom, by reason of thedarkness, he had not at first seen, and who were Mr. Falkland'sservants, hearing the bustle of the rencounter, and alarmed for thesafety of their master, rode up; and then Grimes, disappointed at theloss of his gratification, and admonished by conscious guilt, shrunkfrom farther parley, and rode off in silence. 

It may seem strange that Mr. Falkland should thus a second time havebeen the saviour of Miss Melville, and that under circumstances the mostunexpected and singular. But in this instance it is easily to beaccounted for. He had heard of a man who lurked about this wood forrobbery or some other bad design, and that it was conjectured this manwas Hawkins, another of the victims of Mr. Tyrrel's rural tyranny, whomI shall immediately have occasion to introduce. Mr. Falkland'scompassion had already been strongly excited in favour of Hawkins; hehad in vain endeavoured to find him, and do him good; and he easilyconceived that, if the conjecture which had been made in this instanceproved true, he might have it in his power not only to do what he hadalways intended, but further, to save from a perilous offence againstthe laws and society a man who appeared to have strongly imbibed theprinciples of justice and virtue. He took with him two servants, because, going with the express design of encountering robbers, ifrobbers should be found, he believed he should be inexcusable if he didnot go provided against possible accidents. But he had directed them, atthe same time that they kept within call, to be out of the reach ofbeing seen; and it was only the eagerness of their zeal that had broughtthem up thus early in the present encounter. 

This new adventure promised something extraordinary. Mr. Falkland didnot immediately recognise Miss Melville; and the person of Grimes wasthat of a total stranger, whom he did not recollect to have ever seen. But it was easy to understand the merits of the case, and the proprietyof interfering. The resolute manner of Mr. Falkland, conjoined with thedread which Grimes, oppressed with a sense of wrong, entertained of theopposition of so elevated a personage, speedily put the ravisher toflight. Emily was left alone with her deliverer. He found her much morecollected and calm, than could reasonably have been expected from aperson who had been, a moment before, in the most alarming situation. She told him of the place to which she desired to be conveyed, and heimmediately undertook to escort her. As they went along, she recoveredthat state of mind which inclined her to make a person to whom she hadsuch repeated obligations, and who was so eminently the object of heradmiration, acquainted with the events that had recently befallen her. Mr. Falkland listened with eagerness and surprise. Though he had alreadyknown various instances of Mr. Tyrrel's mean jealousy and unfeelingtyranny, this surpassed them all; and he could scarcely credit his earswhile he heard the tale. His brutal neighbour seemed to realise all thathas been told of the passions of fiends. Miss Melville was obliged torepeat, in the course of her tale, her kinsman's rude accusation againsther, of entertaining a passion for Mr. Falkland; and this she did withthe most bewitching simplicity and charming confusion. Though this partof the tale was a source of real pain to her deliverer, yet it is not tobe supposed but that the flattering partiality of this unhappy girlincreased the interest he felt in her welfare, and the indignation heconceived against her infernal kinsman. 

They arrived without accident at the house of the good lady under whoseprotection Emily desired to place herself. Here Mr. Falkland willinglyleft her as in a place of security. Such conspiracies as that of whichshe was intended to have been the victim, depend for their success uponthe person against whom they are formed being out of the reach of help;and the moment they are detected, they are annihilated. Such reasoningwill, no doubt, be generally found sufficiently solid; and it appearedto Mr. Falkland perfectly applicable to the present case. But he wasmistaken. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Mr. Falkland had experienced the nullity of all expostulation with Mr. Tyrrel, and was therefore content in the present case with confining hisattention to the intended victim. The indignation with which he thoughtof his neighbour's character was now grown to such a height, as to fillhim with reluctance to the idea of a voluntary interview. There wasindeed another affair which had been contemporary with this, that hadonce more brought these mortal enemies into a state of contest, and hadcontributed to raise into a temper little short of madness, the alreadyinflamed and corrosive bitterness of Mr. Tyrrel. 

There was a tenant of Mr. Tyrrel, one Hawkins;--I cannot mention hisname without recollecting the painful tragedies that are annexed to it!This Hawkins had originally been taken up by Mr. Tyrrel, with a view ofprotecting him from the arbitrary proceedings of a neighbouring squire, though he had now in his turn become an object of persecution to Mr. Tyrrel himself. The first ground of their connection was this:--Hawkins, beside a farm which he rented under the above-mentioned squire, had asmall freehold estate that he inherited from his father. This of courseentitled him to a vote in the county elections; and, a warmly contestedelection having occurred, he was required by his landlord to vote forthe candidate in whose favour he had himself engaged. Hawkins refusedto obey the mandate, and soon after received notice to quit the farm heat that time rented. 

It happened that Mr. Tyrrel had interested himself strongly in behalf ofthe opposite candidate; and, as Mr. Tyrrel's estate bordered upon theseat of Hawkins's present residence, the ejected countryman could thinkof no better expedient than that of riding over to this gentleman'smansion, and relating the case to him. Mr. Tyrrel heard him through withattention. "Well, friend, " said he, "it is very true that I wished Mr. Jackman to carry his election; but you know it is usual in these casesfor tenants to vote just as their landlords please. I do not thinkproper to encourage rebellion. "--"All that is very right, and pleaseyou, " replied Hawkins, "and I would have voted at my landlord's biddingfor any other man in the kingdom but Squire Marlow. You must know oneday his huntsman rode over my fence, and so through my best field ofstanding corn. It was not above a dozen yards about if he had kept thecart-road. The fellow had served me the same sauce, an it please yourhonour, three or four times before. So I only asked him what he did thatfor, and whether he had not more conscience than to spoil people's cropso' that fashion? Presently the squire came up. He is but a poor, weazen-face chicken of a gentleman, saving your honour's reverence. Andso he flew into a woundy passion, and threatened to horsewhip me. I willdo as much in reason to pleasure my landlord as arr a tenant he has; butI will not give my vote to a man that threatens to horsewhip me. And so, your honour, I and my wife and three children are to be turned out ofhouse and home, and what I am to do to maintain them God knows. I havebeen a hard-working man, and have always lived well, and I do think thecase is main hard. Squire Underwood turns me out of my farm; and if yourhonour do not take me in, I know none of the neighbouring gentry will, for fear, as they say, of encouraging their own tenants to run rustytoo. "

This representation was not without its effect upon Mr. Tyrrel. "Well, well, man, " replied he, "we will see what can be done. Order andsubordination are very good things; but people should know how much torequire. As you tell the story, I cannot see that you are greatly toblame. Marlow is a coxcombical prig, that is the truth on't; and if aman will expose himself, why, he must even take what follows. I do hatea Frenchified fop with all my soul: and I cannot say that I am muchpleased with my neighbour Underwood for taking the part of such arascal. Hawkins, I think, is your name? You may call on Barnes, mysteward, to-morrow, and he shall speak to you. "

While Mr. Tyrrel was speaking, he recollected that he had a farm vacant, of nearly the same value as that which Hawkins at present rented underMr. Underwood. He immediately consulted his steward, and, finding thething suitable in every respect, Hawkins was installed out of hand inthe catalogue of Mr. Tyrrel's tenants. Mr. Underwood extremely resentedthis proceeding, which indeed, as being contrary to the understoodconventions of the country gentlemen, few people but Mr. Tyrrel wouldhave ventured upon. There was an end, said Mr. Underwood, to allregulation, if tenants were to be encouraged in such disobedience. Itwas not a question of this or that candidate, seeing that any gentleman, who was a true friend to his country, would rather lose his electionthan do a thing which, if once established into a practice, woulddeprive them for ever of the power of managing any election. Thelabouring people were sturdy and resolute enough of their own accord; itbecame every day more difficult to keep them under any subordination;and, if the gentlemen were so ill advised as to neglect the public good, and encourage them in their insolence, there was no foreseeing where itwould end. 

Mr. Tyrrel was not of a stamp to be influenced by these remonstrances. Their general spirit was sufficiently conformable to the sentiments hehimself entertained; but he was of too vehement a temper to maintain thecharacter of a consistent politician; and, however wrong his conductmight be, he would by no means admit of its being set right by thesuggestions of others. The more his patronage of Hawkins was criticised, the more inflexibly he adhered to it; and he was at no loss in clubs andother assemblies to overbear and silence, if not to confute, hiscensurers. Beside which, Hawkins had certain accomplishments whichqualified him to be a favourite with Mr. Tyrrel. The bluntness of hismanner and the ruggedness of his temper gave him some resemblance to hislandord; and, as these qualities were likely to be more frequentlyexercised on such persons as had incurred Mr. Tyrrel's displeasure, thanupon Mr. Tyrrel himself, they were not observed without some degree ofcomplacency. In a word, he every day received new marks of distinctionfrom his patron, and after some time was appointed coadjutor to Mr. Barnes under the denomination of bailiff. It was about the same periodthat he obtained a lease of the farm of which he was tenant. 

Mr. Tyrrel determined, as occasion offered, to promote every part of thefamily of this favoured dependent. Hawkins had a son, a lad ofseventeen, of an agreeable person, a ruddy complexion, and of quick andlively parts. This lad was in an uncommon degree the favourite of hisfather, who seemed to have nothing so much at heart as the futurewelfare of his son. Mr. Tyrrel had noticed him two or three times withapprobation; and the boy, being fond of the sports of the field, hadoccasionally followed the hounds, and displayed various instances, bothof agility and sagacity, in presence of the squire. One day inparticular he exhibited himself with uncommon advantage; and Mr. Tyrrelwithout further delay proposed to his father, to take him into hisfamily, and make him whipper-in to his hounds, till he could provide himwith some more lucrative appointment in his service. 

This proposal was received by Hawkins with various marks ofmortification. He excused himself with hesitation for not accepting theoffered favour; said the lad was in many ways useful to him; and hopedhis honour would not insist upon depriving him of his assistance. Thisapology might perhaps have been sufficient with any other man than Mr. Tyrrel; but it was frequently observed of this gentleman that, when hehad once formed a determination, however slight, in favour of anymeasure, he was never afterwards known to give it up, and that the onlyeffect of opposition was to make him eager and inflexible, in pursuit ofthat to which he had before been nearly indifferent. At first he seemedto receive the apology of Hawkins with good humour, and to see nothingin it but what was reasonable; but afterwards, every time he saw theboy, his desire of retaining him in his service was increased, and hemore than once repeated to his father the good disposition in which hefelt himself towards him. At length he observed that the lad was no moreto be seen mingling in his favourite sports, and he began to suspectthat this originated in a determination to thwart him in his projects. 

Roused by this suspicion, which, to a man of Mr. Tyrrel's character, was not of a nature to brook delay, he sent for Hawkins to confer withhim. "Hawkins, " said he, in a tone of displeasure, "I am not satisfiedwith you. I have spoken to you two or three times about this lad ofyours, whom I am desirous of taking into favour. What is the reason, sir, that you seem unthankful and averse to my kindness? You ought toknow that I am not to be trifled with. I shall not be contented, when Ioffer my favours, to have them rejected by such fellows as you. I madeyou what you are; and, if I please, can make you more helpless andmiserable than you were when I found you. Have a care!"

"An it please your honour, " said Hawkins, "you have been a very goodmaster to me, and I will tell you the whole truth. I hope you will na beangry. This lad is my favourite, my comfort, and the stay of my age. "

"Well, and what then? Is that a reason you should hinder hispreferment?"

"Nay, pray your honour, hear me. I may be very weak for aught I know inthis case, but I cannot help it. My father was a clergyman. We have allof us lived in a creditable way; and I cannot bear to think that thispoor lad of mine should go to service. For my part, I do not see anygood that comes by servants. I do not know, your honour, but, I think, Ishould not like my Leonard to be such as they. God forgive me, if Iwrong them! But this is a very dear case, and I cannot bear to risk mypoor boy's welfare, when I can so easily, if you please, keep him out orharm's way. At present he is sober and industrious, and, without beingpert or surly, knows what is due to him. I know, your honour, that it ismain foolish of me to talk to you thus; but your honour has been a goodmaster to me, and I cannot bear to tell you a lie. "

Mr. Tyrrel had heard the whole of this harangue in silence, because hewas too much astonished to open his mouth. If a thunderbolt had fallenat his feet, he could not have testified greater surprise. He hadthought that Hawkins was so foolishly fond of his son, that he could notbear to trust him out of his presence; but had never in the slightestdegree suspected what he now found to be the truth. 

"Oh, ho, you are a gentleman, are you? A pretty gentleman truly! yourfather was a clergyman! Your family is too good to enter into myservice! Why you impudent rascal! was it for this that I took you up, when Mr. Underwood dismissed you for your insolence to him? Have I beennursing a viper in my bosom? Pretty master's manners will becontaminated truly? He will not know what is due to him, but will beaccustomed to obey orders! You insufferable villain! Get out of mysight! Depend upon it, I will have no gentlemen on my estate! I will offwith them, root and branch, bag and baggage! So do you hear, sir? cometo me to-morrow morning, bring your son, and ask my pardon; or, take myword for it, I will make you so miserable, you shall wish you had neverbeen born. "

This treatment was too much for Hawkins's patience. "There is no need, your honour, that I should come to you again about this affair. I havetaken up my determination, and no time can make any change in it. I ammain sorry to displease your worship, and I know that you can do me agreat deal of mischief. But I hope you will not be so hardhearted as toruin a father only for being fond of his child, even if so be that hisfondness should make him do a foolish thing. But I cannot help it, yourhonour: you must do as you please. The poorest neger, as a man may say, has some point that he will not part with. I will lose all that I have, and go to day-labour, and my son too, if needs must; but I will not makea gentleman's servant of him. "

"Very well, friend; very well!" replied Mr. Tyrrel, foaming with rage. "Depend upon it, I will remember you! Your pride shall have a downfal!God damn it! is it come to this? Shall a rascal that farms his fortyacres, pretend to beard the lord of the manor? I will tread you intopaste! Let me advise you, scoundrel, to shut up your house and fly, asif the devil was behind you! You may think yourself happy, if I be nottoo quick for you yet, if you escape in a whole skin! I would not suffersuch a villain to remain upon my land a day longer, if I could gain theIndies by it!"

"Not so fast, your honour, " answered Hawkins, sturdily. "I hope you willthink better of it, and see that I have not been to blame. But if youshould not, there is some harm that you can do me, and some harm thatyou cannot. Though I am a plain, working man, your honour, do you see?yet I am a man still. No; I have got a lease of my farm, and I shall notquit it o' thaten. I hope there is some law for poor folk, as well as forrich. "

Mr. Tyrrel, unused to contradiction, was provoked beyond bearing at thecourage and independent spirit of his retainer. There was not a tenantupon his estate, or at least not one of Hawkins's mediocrity of fortune, whom the general policy of landowners, and still more the arbitrary anduncontrollable temper of Mr. Tyrrel, did not effectually restrain fromacts of open defiance. 

"Excellent, upon my soul! God damn my blood! but you are a rare fellow. You have a lease, have you? You will not quit, not you! a pretty passthings are come to, if a lease can protect such fellows as you againstthe lord of a manor! But you are for a trial of skill? Oh, very well, friend, very well! With all my soul! Since it is come to that, we willshow you some pretty sport before we have done! But get out of my sight, you rascal! I have not another word to say to you! Never darken my doorsagain. "

Hawkins (to borrow the language of the world) was guilty in this affairof a double imprudence. He talked to his landlord in a more peremptorymanner than the constitution and practices of this country allow adependent to assume. But above all, having been thus hurried away by hisresentment, he ought to have foreseen the consequences. It was meremadness in him to think of contesting with a man of Mr. Tyrrel'seminence and fortune. It was a fawn contending with a lion. Nothingcould have been more easy to predict, than that it was of no avail forhim to have right on his side, when his adversary had influence andwealth, and therefore could so victoriously justify any extravaganciesthat he might think proper to commit. This maxim was completelyillustrated in the sequel. Wealth and despotism easily know how toengage those laws as the coadjutors of their oppression, which wereperhaps at first intended [witless and miserable precaution!] for thesafeguards of the poor. 

From this moment Mr Tyrrel was bent upon Hawkins's destruction; and heleft no means unemployed that could either harass or injure the objectof his persecution. He deprived him of his appointment of bailiff, anddirected Barnes and his other dependents to do him ill offices upon alloccasions. Mr. Tyrrel, by the tenure of his manor, was impropriator ofthe great tithes, and this circumstance afforded him frequentopportunities of petty altercation. The land of one part of Hawkins'sfarm, though covered with corn, was lower than the rest; andconsequently exposed to occasional inundations from a river by which itwas bounded. Mr. Tyrrel had a dam belonging to this river privately cut, about a fortnight before the season of harvest, and laid the whole underwater. He ordered his servants to pull away the fences of the higherground during the night, and to turn in his cattle, to the utterdestruction of the crop. These expedients, however, applied to only onepart of the property of this unfortunate man. But Mr. Tyrrel did notstop here. A sudden mortality took place among Hawkins's live stock, attended with very suspicious circumstances. Hawkins's vigilance wasstrongly excited by this event, and he at length succeeded in tracingthe matter so accurately, that he conceived he could bring it home toMr. Tyrrel himself. 

Hawkins had hitherto carefully avoided, notwithstanding the injuries hehad suffered, the attempting to right himself by legal process; being ofopinion that law was better adapted for a weapon of tyranny in the handsof the rich, than for a shield to protect the humbler part of thecommunity against their usurpations. In this last instance however heconceived that the offence was so atrocious, as to make it impossiblethat any rank could protect the culprit against the severity of justice. In the sequel, he saw reason to applaud himself for his formerinactivity in this respect, and to repent that any motive had beenstrong enough to persuade him into a contrary system. 

This was the very point to which Mr. Tyrrel wanted to bring him, and hecould scarcely credit his good fortune, when he was told that Hawkinshad entered an action. His congratulation upon this occasion wasimmoderate, as he now conceived that the ruin of his late favourite wasirretrievable. He consulted his attorney, and urged him by every motivehe could devise, to employ the whole series of his subterfuges in thepresent affair. The direct repelling of the charge exhibited against himwas the least part of his care; the business was, by affidavits, motions, pleas, demurrers, flaws, and appeals, to protract the questionfrom term to term, and from court to court. It would, as Mr. Tyrrelargued, be the disgrace of a civilized country, if a gentleman, wheninsolently attacked in law by the scum of the earth, could not convertthe cause into a question of the longest purse, and stick in the skirtsof his adversary till he had reduced him to beggary. 

Mr. Tyrrel, however, was by no means so far engrossed by his law-suit, as to neglect other methods of proceeding offensively against histenant. Among the various expedients that suggested themselves, therewas one, which, though it tended rather to torment than irreparablyinjure the sufferer, was not rejected. This was derived from theparticular situation of Hawkins's house, barns, stacks, and outhouses. They were placed at the extremity of a slip of land connecting them withthe rest of the farm, and were surrounded on three sides by fields, inthe occupation of one of Mr. Tyrrel's tenants most devoted to thepleasures of his landlord. The road to the market-town ran at the bottomof the largest of these fields, and was directly in view of the front ofthe house. No inconvenience had yet arisen from that circumstance, asthere had always been a broad path, that intersected this field, and leddirectly from Hawkins's house to the road. This path, or private road, was now, by concert of Mr. Tyrrel and his obliging tenant, shut up, soas to make Hawkins a sort of prisoner in his own domains, and oblige himto go near a mile about for the purposes of his traffic. 

Young Hawkins, the lad who had been the original subject of disputebetween his father and the squire, had much of his father's spirit, andfelt an uncontrollable indignation against the successive acts ofdespotism of which he was a witness. His resentment was the greater, because the sufferings to which his parent was exposed, all of themflowed from affection to him, at the same time that he could not proposeremoving the ground of dispute, as by so doing he would seem to fly inthe face of his father's paternal kindness. Upon the present occasion, without asking any counsel but of his own impatient resentment, he wentin the middle of the night, and removed all the obstructions that hadbeen placed in the way of the old path, broke the padlocks that had beenfixed, and threw open the gates. 

In these operations he did not proceed unobserved, and the next day awarrant was issued for apprehending him. He was accordingly carriedbefore a meeting of justices, and by them committed to the county gaol, to take his trial for the felony at the next assizes. Mr. Tyrrel wasdetermined to prosecute the offence with the greatest severity; and hisattorney, having made the proper enquiries for that purpose, undertookto bring it under that clause of the act 9 Geo. I. Commonly called theBlack Act, which declares that "any person, armed with a sword, or otheroffensive weapon, and having his face blackened, or being otherwisedisguised, appearing in any warren or place where hares or conies havebeen or shall be usually kept, and being thereof duly convicted, shallbe adjudged guilty of felony, and shall suffer death, as in cases offelony, without benefit of clergy. " Young Hawkins, it seemed, hadbuttoned the cape of his great coat over his face, as soon as heperceived himself to be observed, and he was furnished with awrenching-iron for the purpose of breaking the padlocks. The attorneyfurther undertook to prove, by sufficient witnesses, that the field inquestion was a warren in which hares were regularly fed. Mr. Tyrrelseized upon these pretences with inexpressible satisfaction. Heprevailed upon the justices, by the picture he drew of the obstinacy andinsolence of the Hawkinses, fully to commit the lad upon this miserablecharge; and it was by no means so certain as paternal affection wouldhave desired, that the same overpowering influence would not cause inthe sequel the penal clause to be executed in all its strictness. 

This was the finishing stroke to Hawkins's miseries: as he was notdeficient in courage, he had stood up against his other persecutionswithout flinching. He was not unaware of the advantages which our lawsand customs give to the rich over the poor, in contentions of this kind. But, being once involved, there was a stubbornness in his nature thatwould not allow him to retract, and he suffered himself to hope, ratherthan expect, a favourable issue. But in this last event he was woundedin the point that was nearest his heart. He had feared to have his soncontaminated and debased by a servile station, and he now saw himtransferred to the seminary of a gaol. He was even uncertain as to theissue of his imprisonment, and trembled to think what the tyranny ofwealth might effect to blast his hopes for ever. 

From this moment his heart died within him. He had trusted topersevering industry and skill, to save the wreck of his little propertyfrom the vulgar spite of his landlord. But he had now no longer anyspirit to exert those efforts which his situation more than everrequired. Mr. Tyrrel proceeded without remission in his machinations;Hawkins's affairs every day grew more desperate, and the squire, watching the occasion, took the earliest opportunity of seizing uponhis remaining property in the mode of a distress for rent. 

It was precisely in this stage of the affair, that Mr. Falkland and Mr. Tyrrel accidentally met, in a private road near the habitation of thelatter. They were on horseback, and Mr. Falkland was going to the houseof the unfortunate tenant, who seemed upon the point of perishing underhis landlord's malice. He had been just made acquainted with the tale ofthis persecution. It had indeed been an additional aggravation ofHawkins's calamity, that Mr. Falkland, whose interference mightotherwise have saved him, had been absent from the neighbourhood for aconsiderable time. He had been three months in London, and from thencehad gone to visit his estates in another part of the island. The proudand self-confident spirit of this poor fellow always disposed him todepend, as long as possible, upon his own exertions. He had avoidedapplying to Mr. Falkland, or indeed indulging himself in any manner incommunicating and bewailing his hard hap, in the beginning of thecontention, and, when the extremity grew more urgent, and he would havebeen willing to recede in some degree from the stubbornness of hismeasures, he found it no longer in his power. After an absence ofconsiderable duration, Mr. Falkland at length returned somewhatunexpectedly; and having learned, among the first articles of countryintelligence, the distresses of this unfortunate yeoman, he resolved toride over to his house the next morning, and surprise him with all therelief it was in his power to bestow. 

At sight of Mr. Tyrrel in this unexpected rencounter, his face reddenedwith indignation. His first feeling, as he afterwards said, was to avoidhim; but finding that he must pass him, he conceived that it would bewant of spirit not to acquaint him with his feelings on the presentoccasion. 

"Mr. Tyrrel, " said he, somewhat abruptly, "I am sorry for a piece ofnews which I have just heard. "

"And pray, sir, what is your sorrow to me?"

"A great deal, sir: it is caused by the distresses of a poor tenant ofyours, Hawkins. If your steward have proceeded without your authority, Ithink it right to inform you what he has done; and, if he have had yourauthority, I would gladly persuade you to think better of it. "

"Mr. Falkland, it would be quite as well if you would mind your ownbusiness, and leave me to mind mine. I want no monitor, and I will havenone. "

"You mistake, Mr. Tyrrel; I am minding my own business. If I see youfall into a pit, it is my business to draw you out and save your life. If I see you pursuing a wrong mode of conduct, it is my business to setyou right and save your honour. "

"Zounds, sir, do not think to put your conundrums upon me! Is not theman my tenant? Is not my estate my own? What signifies calling it mine, if I am not to have the direction of it? Sir, I pay for what I have: Iowe no man a penny; and I will not put my estate to nurse to you, northe best he that wears a head. "

"It is very true, " said Mr. Falkland, avoiding any direct notice of thelast words of Mr. Tyrrel, "that there is a distinction of ranks. Ibelieve that distinction is a good thing, and necessary to the peace ofmankind. But, however necessary it may be, we must acknowledge that itputs some hardship upon the lower orders of society. It makes one'sheart ache to think, that one man is born to the inheritance of everysuperfluity, while the whole share of another, without any demerit ofhis, is drudgery and starving; and that all this is indispensable. Wethat are rich, Mr. Tyrrel, must do every thing in our power to lightenthe yoke of these unfortunate people. We must not use the advantage thataccident has given us with an unmerciful hand. Poor wretches! they arepressed almost beyond bearing as it is; and, if we unfeelingly giveanother turn to the machine, they will be crushed into atoms. "

This picture was not without its effect, even upon the obdurate mind ofMr. Tyrrel. --"Well, sir, I am no tyrant. I know very well that tyrannyis a bad thing. But you do not infer from thence that these people areto do as they please, and never meet with their deserts?"

"Mr. Tyrrel, I see that you are shaken in your animosity. Suffer me tohail the new-born benevolence of your nature. Go with me to Hawkins. Donot let us talk of his deserts! Poor fellow! he has suffered almost allthat human nature can endure. Let your forgiveness upon this occasion bethe earnest of good neighbourhood and friendship between you and me. "

"No, sir, I will not go. I own there is something in what you say. Ialways knew you had the wit to make good your own story, and tell aplausible tale. But I will not be come over thus. It has been mycharacter, when I had once conceived a scheme of vengeance, never toforego it; and I will not change that character. I took up Hawkins whenevery body forsook him, and made a man of him; and the ungrateful rascalhas only insulted me for my pains. Curse me, if I ever forgive him! Itwould be a good jest indeed, if I were to forgive the insolence of myown creature at the desire of a man like you that has been my perpetualplague. "

"For God's sake, Mr. Tyrrel, have some reason in your resentment! Let ussuppose that Hawkins has behaved unjustifiably, and insulted you: isthat an offence that never can be expiated? Must the father be ruined, and the son hanged, to glut your resentment?"

"Damn me, sir, but you may talk your heart out; you shall get nothing ofme. I shall never forgive myself for having listened to you for amoment. I will suffer nobody to stop the stream of my resentment; if Iever were to forgive him, it should be at nobody's, entreaty but my own. But, sir, I never will. If he and all his family were at my feet, Iwould order them all to be hanged the next minute, if my power were asgood as my will. "

"And this is your decision, is it? Mr. Tyrrel, I am ashamed of you!Almighty God! to hear you talk gives one a loathing for the institutionsand regulations of society, and would induce one to fly the very face ofman! But, no! society casts you out; man abominates you. No wealth, norank, can buy out your stain. You will live deserted in the midst ofyour species; you will go into crowded societies, and no one will deignso much as to salute you. They will fly from your glance as they wouldfrom the gaze of a basilisk. Where do you expect to find the hearts offlint that shall sympathise with yours? You have the stamp of misery, incessant, undivided, unpitied misery!"

Thus saying, Mr. Falkland gave spurs to his horse, rudely pushed besideMr. Tyrrel, and was presently out of sight. Flaming indignationannihilated even his favourite sense of honour, and he regarded hisneighbour as a wretch, with whom it was impossible even to enter intocontention. For the latter, he remained for the present motionless andpetrified. The glowing enthusiasm of Mr. Falkland was such as might wellhave unnerved the stoutest foe. Mr. Tyrrel, in spite of himself, wasblasted with the compunctions of guilt, and unable to string himselffor the contest. The picture Mr. Falkland had drawn was prophetic. Itdescribed what Mr. Tyrrel chiefly feared; and what in its commencementshe thought he already felt. It was responsive to the whispering of hisown meditations; it simply gave body and voice to the spectre thathaunted him, and to the terrors of which he was an hourly prey. 

By and by, however, he recovered. The more he had been temporarilyconfounded, the fiercer was his resentment when he came to himself. Suchhatred never existed in a human bosom without marking its progress withviolence and death. Mr. Tyrrel, however, felt no inclination to haverecourse to personal defiance. He was the furthest in the world from acoward; but his genius sunk before the genius of Falkland. He left hisvengeance to the disposal of circumstances. He was secure that hisanimosity would never be forgotten nor diminished by the interpositionof any time or events. Vengeance was his nightly dream, and theuppermost of his waking thoughts. 

Mr. Falkland had departed from this conference with a confirmeddisapprobation of the conduct of his neighbour, and an unalterableresolution to do every thing in his power to relieve the distresses ofHawkins. But he was too late. When he arrived, he found the housealready evacuated by its master. The family was removed nobody knewwhither; Hawkins had absconded, and, what was still more extraordinary, the boy Hawkins had escaped on the very same day from the county gaol. The enquiries Mr. Falkland set on foot after them were fruitless; notraces could be found of the catastrophe of these unhappy people. Thatcatastrophe I shall shortly have occasion to relate, and it will befound pregnant with horror, beyond what the blackest misanthropy couldreadily have suggested. 

I go on with my tale. I go on to relate those incidents in which my ownfate was so mysteriously involved. I lift the curtain, and bring forwardthe last act of the tragedy. 

CHAPTER X. 

It may easily be supposed, that the ill temper cherished by Mr. Tyrrelin his contention with Hawkins, and the increasing animosity between himand Mr. Falkland, added to the impatience with which he thought of theescape of Emily. 

Mr. Tyrrel heard with astonishment of the miscarriage of an expedient, of the success of which he had not previously entertained the slightestsuspicion. He became frantic with vexation. Grimes had not dared tosignify the event of his expedition in person, and the footman whom hedesired to announce to his master that Miss Melville was lost, themoment after fled from his presence with the most dreadfulapprehensions. Presently he bellowed for Grimes, and the young man atlast appeared before him, more dead than alive. Grimes he compelled torepeat the particulars of the tale; which he had no sooner done, than heonce again slunk away, shocked at the execrations with which Mr. Tyrreloverwhelmed him. Grimes was no coward; but he reverenced the inborndivinity that attends upon rank, as Indians worship the devil. Nor wasthis all. The rage of Mr. Tyrrel was so ungovernable and fierce, thatfew hearts could have been found so stout, as not to have trembledbefore it with a sort of unconquerable inferiority. 

He no sooner obtained a moment's pause than he began to recall to histempestuous mind the various circumstances of the case. His complaintswere bitter; and, in a tranquil observer, might have produced the unitedfeeling of pity for his sufferings, and horror at his depravity. Herecollected all the precautions he had used; he could scarcely find aflaw in the process; and he cursed that blind and malicious power whichdelighted to cross his most deep-laid schemes. "Of this malice he wasbeyond all other human beings the object. He was mocked with the shadowof power; and when he lifted his hand to smite, it was struck withsudden palsy. [In the bitterness of his anguish, he forgot his recenttriumph over Hawkins, or perhaps he regarded it less as a triumph, thanan overthrow, because it had failed of coming up to the extent of hismalice. ] To what purpose had Heaven given him a feeling of injury, andan instinct to resent, while he could in no case make his resentmentfelt! It was only necessary for him to be the enemy of any person, toinsure that person's being safe against the reach of misfortune. Whatinsults, the most shocking and repeated, had he received from thispaltry girl! And by whom was she now torn from his indignation? By thatdevil that haunted him at every moment, that crossed him at every step, that fixed at pleasure his arrows in his heart, and made mows andmockery at his insufferable tortures. "

There was one other reflection that increased his anguish, and made himcareless and desperate as to his future conduct. It was in vain toconceal from himself that his reputation would be cruelly wounded bythis event. He had imagined that, while Emily was forced into thisodious marriage, she would be obliged by decorum, as soon as the eventwas decided, to draw a veil over the compulsion she had suffered. Butthis security was now lost, and Mr. Falkland would take a pride inpublishing his dishonour. Though the provocations he had received fromMiss Melville would, in his own opinion, have justified him in anytreatment he should have thought proper to inflict, he was sensible theworld would see the matter in a different light. This reflectionaugmented the violence of his resolutions, and determined him to refuseno means by which he could transfer the anguish that now preyed upon hisown mind to that of another. 

Meanwhile, the composure and magnanimity of Emily had considerablysubsided, the moment she believed herself in a place of safety. Whiledanger and injustice assailed her with their menaces, she found inherself a courage that disdained to yield. The succeeding appearance ofcalm was more fatal to her. There was nothing now, powerfully to fosterher courage or excite her energy. She looked back at the trials she hadpassed, and her soul sickened at the recollection of that, which, whileit was in act, she had had the fortitude to endure. Till the period atwhich Mr. Tyrrel had been inspired with this cruel antipathy, she hadbeen in all instances a stranger to anxiety and fear. Uninured tomisfortune, she had suddenly and without preparation been made thesubject of the most infernal malignity. When a man of robust andvigorous constitution has a fit of sickness, it produces a more powerfuleffect, than the same indisposition upon a delicate valetudinarian. Suchwas the case with Miss Melville. She passed the succeeding nightsleepless and uneasy, and was found in the morning with a high fever. Her distemper resisted for the present all attempts to assuage it, though there was reason to hope that the goodness of her constitution, assisted by tranquillity and the kindness of those about her, wouldultimately surmount it. On the second day she was delirious. On thenight of that day she was arrested at the suit of Mr. Tyrrel, for a debtcontracted for board and necessaries for the last fourteen years. 

The idea of this arrest, as the reader will perhaps recollect, firstoccurred, in the conversation between Mr. Tyrrel and Miss Melville, soonafter he had thought proper to confine her to her chamber. But at thattime he had probably no serious conception of ever being induced tocarry it into execution. It had merely been mentioned by way of threat, and as the suggestion of a mind, whose habits had long been accustomedto contemplate every possible instrument of tyranny and revenge. Butnow, that the unlooked-for rescue and escape of his poor kinswoman hadwrought up his thoughts to a degree of insanity, and that he revolved inthe gloomy recesses of his mind, how he might best shake off the load ofdisappointment which oppressed him, the idea recurred with double force. He was not long in forming his resolution; and, calling for Barnes hissteward, immediately gave him directions in what manner to proceed. 

Barnes had been for several years the instrument of Mr. Tyrrel'sinjustice. His mind was hardened by use, and he could, without remorse, officiate as the spectator, or even as the author and director, of ascene of vulgar distress. But even he was somewhat startled upon thepresent occasion. The character and conduct of Emily in Mr. Tyrrel'sfamily had been without a blot. She had not a single enemy; and it wasimpossible to contemplate her youth, her vivacity, and her guilelessinnocence, without emotions of sympathy and compasssion. 

"Your worship?--I do not understand you!--Arrest Miss--Miss Emily!"

"Yes, --I tell you!--What is the matter with you?--Go instantly toSwineard, the lawyer, and bid him finish the business out of hand!"

"Lord love your honour! Arrest her! Why she does not owe you a brassfarthing: she always lived upon your charity!"

"Ass! Scoundrel! I tell you she does owe me, --owes me eleven hundredpounds. --The law justifies it. --What do you think laws were made for? Ido nothing but right, and right I will have. "

"Your honour, I never questioned your orders in my life; but I must now. I cannot see you ruin Miss Emily, poor girl! nay, and yourself too, forthe matter of that, and not say which way you are going. I hope you willbear with me. Why, if she owed you ever so much, she cannot be arrested. She is not of age. "

"Will you have done?--Do not tell me of--It cannot, and It can. It hasbeen done before, --and it shall be done again. Let him dispute it thatdares! I will do it now and stand to it afterwards. Tell Swineard, --ifhe make the least boggling, it is as much as his life is worth;--heshall starve by inches. "

"Pray, your honour, think better of it. Upon my life, the whole countrywill cry shame of it. "

"Barnes!--What do you mean? I am not used to be talked to, and I cannothear it! You have been a good fellow to me upon many occasions--But, ifI find you out for making one with them that dispute my authority, damnmy soul, if I do not make you sick of your life!"

"I have done, your honour. I will not say another word except this, --Ihave heard as how that Miss Emily is sick a-bed. You are determined, yousay, to put her in jail. You do not mean to kill her, I take it, "

"Let her die! I will not spare her for an hour--I will not always beinsulted. She had no consideration for me, and I have no mercy forher. --I am in for it! They have provoked me past bearing, --and theyshall feel me! Tell Swineard, in bed or up, day or night, I will nothear of an instant's delay. "

Such were the directions of Mr. Tyrrel, and in strict conformity to hisdirections were the proceedings of that respectable limb of the law heemployed upon the present occasion. Miss Melville had been delirious, through a considerable part of the day on the evening of which thebailiff and his follower arrived. By the direction of the physician whomMr. Falkland had ordered to attend her, a composing draught wasadministered; and, exhausted as she was by the wild and distractedimages that for several hours had haunted her fancy, she was now sunkinto a refreshing slumber. Mrs. Hammond, the sister of Mrs. Jakeman, wassitting by her bed-side, full of compassion for the lovely sufferer, andrejoicing in the calm tranquillity that had just taken possession ofher, when a little girl, the only child of Mrs. Hammond, opened thestreet-door to the rap of the bailiff He said he wanted to speak withMiss Melville, and the child answered that she would go tell her mother. So saying, she advanced to the door of the back-room upon theground-floor, in which Emily lay; but the moment it was opened, insteadof waiting for the appearance of the mother, the bailiff entered alongwith the girl. 

Mrs. Hammond looked up. "Who are you?" said she. "Why do you come inhere? Hush! be quiet!'

"I must speak with Miss Melville. "

"Indeed, but you must not. Tell me your business. The poor child hasbeen light-headed all day. She has just fallen asleep, and must not bedisturbed. "

"That is no business of mine. I must obey orders. "

"Orders? Whose orders? What is it you mean?"

At this moment Emily opened her eyes. "What noise is that? Pray let mebe quiet. "

"Miss, I want to speak with you. I have got a writ against you foreleven hundred pounds at the suit of squire Tyrrel. "

At these words both Mrs. Hammond and Emily were dumb. The latter wasscarcely able to annex any meaning to the intelligence; and, though Mrs. Hammond was somewhat better acquainted with the sort of language thatwas employed, yet in this strange and unexpected connection it wasalmost as mysterious to her as to poor Emily herself. 

"A writ? How can she be in Mr. Tyrrel's debt? A writ against a child!"

"It is no signification putting your questions to us. We only do as weare directed. There is our authority. Look at it. "

"Lord Almighty!" exclaimed Mrs. Hammond, "what does this mean? It isimpossible Mr. Tyrrel should have sent you. "

"Good woman, none of your jabber to us! Cannot you read?"

"This is all a trick! The paper is forged! It is a vile contrivance toget the poor orphan out of the hands of those with whom only she can besafe. Proceed upon it at your peril!"

"Rest you content; that is exactly what we mean to do. Take my word, weknow very well what we are about. "

"Why, you would not tear her from her bed? I tell you, she is in a highfever; she is light-headed; it would be death to remove her! You arebailiffs, are not you? You are not murderers?"

"The law says nothing about that. We have orders to take her sick orwell. We will do her no harm except so far as we must perform ouroffice, be it how it will. "

"Where would you take her? What is it you mean to do?"

"To the county jail. Bullock, go, order a post-chaise from the Griffin!"

"Stay, I say! Give no such orders! Wait only three hours; I will sendoff a messenger express to squire Falkland, and I am sure he willsatisfy you as to any harm that can come to you, without its beingnecessary to take the poor child to jail. "

"We have particular directions against that. We are not at liberty tolose a minute. Why are not you gone? Order the horses to be put toimmediately!"

Emily had listened to the course of this conversation, which hadsufficiently explained to her whatever was enigmatical in the firstappearance of the bailiffs. The painful and incredible reality that wasthus presented effectually dissipated the illusions of frenzy to whichshe had just been a prey. "My dear Madam, " said she to Mrs. Hammond, "donot harass yourself with useless efforts. I am very sorry for all thetrouble I have given you. But my misfortune is inevitable. Sir, if youwill step into the next room, I will dress myself, and attend youimmediately. "

Mrs. Hammond began to be equally aware that her struggles were to nopurpose; but she could not be equally patient. At one moment she ravedupon the brutality of Mr. Tyrrel, whom she affirmed to be a devilincarnate, and not a man. At another she expostulated, with bitterinvective, against the hardheartedness of the bailiff, and exhorted himto mix some humanity and moderation with the discharge of his function;but he was impenetrable to all she could urge. In the mean while Emilyyielded with the sweetest resignation to an inevitable evil. Mrs. Hammond insisted that, at least, they should permit her to attend heryoung lady in the chaise; and the bailiff, though the orders he hadreceived were so peremptory that he dared not exercise his discretion asto the execution of the writ, began to have some apprehensions ofdanger, and was willing to admit of any precaution that was not indirect hostility to his functions. For the rest he understood, that itwas in all cases dangerous to allow sickness, or apparent unfitness forremoval, as a sufficient cause to interrupt a direct process; and that, accordingly, in all doubtful questions and presumptive murders, thepractice of the law inclined, with a laudable partiality, to thevindication of its own officers. In addition to these general rules, hewas influenced by the positive injunctions and assurances of Swineard, and the terror which, through a circle of many miles, was annexed to thename of Tyrrel. Before they departed, Mrs. Hammond despatched amessenger with a letter of three lines to Mr. Falkland, informing him ofthis extraordinary event. Mr. Falkland was from home when the messengerarrived, and not expected to return till the second day; accident seemedin this instance to favour the vengeance of Mr. Tyrrel, for he hadhimself been too much under the dominion of an uncontrollable fury, totake a circumstance of this sort into his estimate. 

The forlorn state of these poor women, who were conducted, the one bycompulsion, the other a volunteer, to a scene so little adapted to theiraccommodation as that of a common jail, may easily be imagined Mrs. Hammond, however, was endowed with a masculine courage and impetuosityof spirit, eminently necessary in the difficulties they had toencounter. She was in some degree fitted by a sanguine temper, and animpassioned sense of injustice, for the discharge of those very officeswhich sobriety and calm reflection might have prescribed. The health ofMiss Melville was materially affected by the surprise and removal shehad undergone at the very time that repose was most necessary for herpreservation. Her fever became more violent; her delirium was stronger;and the tortures of her imagination were proportioned to theunfavourableness of the state in which the removal had been effected. Itwas highly improbable that she could recover. 

In the moments of suspended reason she was perpetually calling on thename of Falkland. Mr. Falkland, she said, was her first and only love, and he should be her husband. A moment after she exclaimed upon him in adisconsolate, yet reproachful tone, for his unworthy deference to theprejudices of the world. It was very cruel of him to show himself soproud, and tell her that he would never consent to marry a beggar. But, if he were proud, she was determined to be proud too. He should see thatshe would not conduct herself like a slighted maiden, and that, thoughhe could reject her, it was not in his power to break her heart. Atanother time she imagined she saw Mr. Tyrrel and his engine Grimes, their hands and garments dropping with blood: and the patheticreproaches she vented against them might have affected a heart of stone. Then the figure of Falkland presented itself to her distracted fancy, deformed with wounds, and of a deadly paleness, and she shrieked withagony, while she exclaimed that such was the general hardheartedness, that no one would make the smallest exertion for his rescue. In suchvicissitudes of pain, perpetually imagining to her self unkindness, insult, conspiracy, and murder, she passed a considerable part of twodays. 

On the evening of the second Mr. Falkland arrived, accompanied by DoctorWilson, the physician by whom she had previously been attended. Thescene he was called upon to witness was such as to be most exquisitelyagonising to a man of his acute sensibility. The news of the arrest hadgiven him an inexpressible shock; he was transported out of himself atthe unexampled malignity of its author. But, when he saw the figure ofMiss Melville, haggard, and a warrant of death written in hercountenance, a victim to the diabolical passions of her kinsman, itseemed too much to be endured. When he entered, she was in the midst ofone of her fits of delirium, and immediately mistook her visitors fortwo assassins. She asked, where they had hid her Falkland, her lord, herlife, her husband! and demanded that they should restore to her hismangled corpse, that she might embrace him with her dying arms, breatheher last upon his lips, and be buried in the same grave. She reproachedthem with the sordidness of their conduct in becoming the tools of hervile cousin, who had deprived her of her reason, and would never becontented till he had murdered her. Mr. Falkland tore himself away fromthis painful scene, and, leaving Doctor Wilson with his patient, desiredhim, when he had given the necessary directions, to follow him to hisinn. 

The perpetual hurry of spirits in which Miss Melville had been kept forseveral days, by the nature of her indisposition, was extremelyexhausting to her; and, in about an hour from the visit of Mr. Falkland, her delirium subsided, and left her in so low a state as to render itdifficult to perceive any signs of life. Doctor Wilson, who hadwithdrawn, to soothe, if possible, the disturbed and impatient thoughtsof Mr. Falkland, was summoned afresh upon this change of symptoms, andsat by the bed-side during the remainder of the night. The situation ofhis patient was such, as to keep him in momentary apprehension of herdecease. While Miss Melville lay in this feeble and exhausted condition, Mrs. Hammond betrayed every token of the tenderest anxiety. Hersensibility was habitually of the acutest sort, and the qualities ofEmily were such as powerfully to fix her affection. She loved her like amother. Upon the present occasion, every sound, every motion, made hertremble. Doctor Wilson had introduced another nurse, in consideration ofthe incessant fatigue Mrs. Hammond had undergone; and he endeavoured, byrepresentations, and even by authority, to compel her to quit theapartment of the patient. But she was uncontrollable; and he at lengthfound that he should probably do her more injury, by the violence thatwould be necessary to separate her from the suffering innocent, than byallowing her to follow her inclination. Her eye was a thousand timesturned, with the most eager curiosity, upon the countenance of DoctorWilson, without her daring to breathe a question respecting his opinion, lest he should answer her by a communication of the most fatal tidings. In the mean time she listened with the deepest attention to every thingthat dropped either from the physician or the nurse, hoping to collectas it were from some oblique hint, the intelligence which she had notcourage expressly to require. 

Towards morning the state of the patient seemed to take a favourableturn. She dozed for near two hours, and, when she awoke, appearedperfectly calm and sensible. Understanding that Mr. Falkland hadbrought the physician to attend her, and was himself in herneighbourhood, she requested to see him. Mr. Falkland had gone in themean time, with one of his tenants, to bail the debt, and now enteredthe prison to enquire whether the young lady might be safely removed, from her present miserable residence, to a more airy and commodiousapartment. When he appeared, the sight of him revived in the mind ofMiss Melville an imperfect recollection of the wanderings of herdelirium. She covered her face with her fingers, and betrayed the mostexpressive confusion, while she thanked him, with her usual unaffectedsimplicity, for the trouble he had taken. She hoped she should not givehim much more; she thought she should get better. It was a shame, shesaid, if a young and lively girl, as she was, could not contrive tooutlive the trifling misfortunes to which she had been subjected. But, while she said this, she was still extremely weak. She tried to assume acheerful countenance; but it was a faint effort, which the feeble stateof her frame did not seem sufficient to support. Mr. Falkland and thedoctor joined to request her to keep herself quiet, and avoid for thepresent all occasions of exertion. 

Encouraged by these appearances, Mrs. Hammond ventured to follow the twogentlemen out of the room, in order to learn from the physician whathopes he entertained. Doctor Wilson acknowledged, that he found hispatient at first in a very unfavourable situation, that the symptomswere changed for the better, and that he was not without someexpectation of her recovery. He added, however, that he could answer fornothing, that the next twelve hours would be exceedingly critical, butthat if she did not grow worse before morning, he would then undertakefor her life. Mrs. Hammond, who had hitherto seen nothing but despair, now became frantic with joy. She burst into tears of transport, blessedthe physician in the most emphatic and impassioned terms, and uttered athousand extravagancies. Doctor Wilson seized this opportunity to pressher to give herself a little repose, to which she consented, a bed beingfirst procured for her in the room next to Miss Melville's, she havingcharged the nurse to give her notice of any alteration in the state ofthe patient. 

Mrs. Hammond enjoyed an uninterrupted sleep of several hours. It wasalready night, when she was awaked by an unusual bustle in the nextroom. She listened for a few moments, and then determined to go anddiscover the occasion of it. As she opened her door for that purpose, she met the nurse coming to her. The countenance of the messenger toldher what it was she had to communicate, without the use of words. Shehurried to the bed-side, and found Miss Melville expiring. Theappearances that had at first been so encouraging were of shortduration. The calm of the morning proved to be only a sort of lighteningbefore death. In a few hours the patient grew worse. The bloom of hercountenance faded; she drew her breath with difficulty; and her eyesbecame fixed. Doctor Wilson came in at this period, and immediatelyperceived that all was over. She was for some time in convulsions; but, these subsiding, she addressed the physician with a composed, thoughfeeble voice. She thanked him for his attention; and expressed the mostlively sense of her obligations to Mr. Falkland. She sincerely forgaveher cousin, and hoped he might never be visited by too acute arecollection of his barbarity to her. She would have been contented tolive. Few persons had a sincerer relish of the pleasures of life; butshe was well pleased to die, rather than have become the wife of Grimes. As Mrs. Hammond entered, she turned her countenance towards her, andwith an affectionate expression repeated her name. This was her lastword; in less than two hours from that time she breathed her last in thearms of this faithful friend. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Such was the fate of Miss Emily Melville. Perhaps tyranny neverexhibited a more painful memorial of the detestation in which itdeserves to be held. The idea irresistibly excited in every spectator ofthe scene, was that of regarding Mr. Tyrrel as the most diabolicalwretch that had ever dishonoured the human form. The very attendantsupon this house of oppression, for the scene was acted upon too public astage not to be generally understood, expressed their astonishment anddisgust at his unparalleled cruelty. 

If such were the feelings of men bred to the commission of injustice, itis difficult to say what must have been those of Mr. Falkland. He raved, he swore, he beat his head, he rent up his hair. He was unable tocontinue in one posture, and to remain in one place. He burst away fromthe spot with vehemence, as if he sought to leave behind him hisrecollection and his existence. He seemed to tear up the ground withfierceness and rage. He returned soon again. He approached the sadremains of what had been Emily, and gazed on them with such intentness, that his eyes appeared, ready to burst from their sockets. Acute andexquisite as were his notions of virtue and honour, he could not preventhimself from reproaching the system of nature, for having given birth tosuch a monster as Tyrrel. He was ashamed of himself for wearing the sameform. He could not think of the human species with patience. He foamedwith indignation against the laws of the universe, that did not permithim to crush such reptiles at a blow, as we would crush so many noxiousinsects. It was necessary to guard him like a madman. 

The whole office of judging what was proper to be done under the presentcircumstances devolved upon Doctor Wilson. The doctor was a man of cooland methodical habits of acting. One of the first ideas that suggesteditself to him was, that Miss Melvile was a branch of the family ofTyrrel. He did not doubt of the willingness of Mr. Falkland to dischargeevery expense that might be further incident to the melancholy remainsof this unfortunate victim; but he conceived that the laws of fashionand decorum required some notification of the event to be made to thehead of the family. Perhaps, too, he had an eye to his interest in hisprofession, and was reluctant to expose himself to the resentment of aperson of Mr. Tyrrel's consideration in the neighbourhood. But, withthis weakness, he had nevertheless some feelings in common with the restof the world, and must have suffered considerable violence, before hecould have persuaded himself to be the messenger; beside which, he didnot think it right in the present situation to leave Mr. Falkland. 

Doctor Wilson no sooner mentioned these ideas, than they seemed to makea sudden impression on Mrs. Hammond, and she earnestly requested thatshe might be permitted to carry the intelligence. The proposal wasunexpected; but the doctor did not very obstinately refuse his assent. She was determined, she said, to see what sort of impression thecatastrophe would make upon the author of it; and she promised tocomport herself with moderation and civility. The journey was soonperformed. 

"I am come, sir, " said she to Mr. Tyrrel, "to inform you that yourcousin, Miss Melville, died this afternoon. "

"Died?"

"Yes, sir. I saw her die. She died in these arms. "

"Died? Who killed her? What do you mean?"

"Who? Is it for you to ask that question? Your cruelty and malice killedher!"

"Me?--my?--Poh! she is not dead--it cannot be--it is not a week sinceshe left this house. "

"Do not you believe me? I say she is dead!"

"Have a care, woman! this is no matter for jesting. No: though she usedme ill, I would not believe her dead for all the world!"

Mrs. Hammond shook her head in a manner expressive at once of grief andindignation. 

"No, no, no, no! I will never believe that!--No, never!"

"Will you come with me, and convince your eyes? It is a sight worthy ofyou; and will be a feast to such a heart as yours!"--Saying this, Mrs. Hammond offered her hand, as if to conduct him to the spot. 

Mr. Tyrrel shrunk back. 

"If she be dead, what is that to me? Am I to answer for every thing thatgoes wrong in the world?--What do you come here for? Why bring yourmessages to me?"

"To whom should I bring them but to her kinsman, --and her murderer. "

"Murderer?--Did I employ knives or pistols? Did I give her poison? I didnothing but what the law allows. If she be dead, nobody can say that Iam to blame!"

"To blame?--All the world will abhor and curse you. Were you such afool as to think, because men pay respect to wealth and rank, this wouldextend to such a deed? They will laugh at so barefaced a cheat. Themeanest beggar will spurn and spit at you. Ay, you may well standconfounded at what you have done. I will proclaim you to the wholeworld, and you will be obliged to fly the very face of a humancreature!"

"Good woman, " said Mr. Tyrrel, extremely humbled, "talk no more in thisstrain!--Emmy is not dead! I am sure--I hope--she is not dead!--Tell methat you have only been deceiving me, and I will forgive you everything--I will forgive her--I will take her into favour--I will do anything you please!--I never meant her any harm!"

"I tell you she is dead! You have murdered the sweetest innocent thatlived! Can you bring her back to life, as you have driven her out of it?If you could, I would kneel to you twenty times a day! What is it youhave done?--Miserable wretch! did you think you could do and undo, andchange things this way and that, as you pleased?"

The reproaches of Mrs. Hammond were the first instance in which Mr. Tyrrel was made to drink the full cup of retribution. This was, however, only a specimen of a long series of contempt, abhorrence, and insult, that was reserved for him. The words of Mrs. Hammond were prophetic. Itevidently appeared, that though wealth and hereditary elevation operateas an apology for many delinquencies, there are some which soirresistibly address themselves to the indignation of mankind, that, like death, they level all distinctions, and reduce their perpetrator toan equality with the most indigent and squalid of his species. AgainstMr. Tyrrel, as the tyrannical and unmanly murderer of Emily, those whodared not venture the unreserved avowal of their sentiments mutteredcurses, deep, not loud; while the rest joined in an universal cry ofabhorrence and execration. He stood astonished at the novelty of hissituation. Accustomed as he had been to the obedience and tremblinghomage of mankind, he had imagined they would be perpetual, and that noexcess on his part would ever be potent enough to break the enchantment. Now he looked round, and saw sullen detestation in every face, whichwith difficulty restrained itself, and upon the slightest provocationbroke forth with an impetuous tide, and swept away the mounds ofsubordination and fear. His large estate could not purchase civilityfrom the gentry, the peasantry, scarcely from his own servants. In theindignation of all around him he found a ghost that haunted him withevery change of place, and a remorse that stung his conscience, andexterminated his peace. The neighbourhood appeared more and more everyday to be growing too hot for him to endure, and it became evident thathe would ultimately be obliged to quit the country. Urged by theflagitiousness of this last example, people learned to recollect everyother instance of his excesses, and it was, no doubt, a fearfulcatalogue that rose up in judgment against him. It seemed as if thesense of public resentment had long been gathering strength unperceived, and now burst forth into insuppressible violence. 

There was scarcely a human being upon whom this sort of retributioncould have sat more painfully than upon Mr. Tyrrel. Though he had not aconsciousness of innocence prompting him continually to recoil from thedetestation of mankind as a thing totally unallied to his character, yetthe imperiousness of his temper and the constant experience he had hadof the pliability of other men, prepared him to feel the general andundisguised condemnation into which he was sunk with uncommon emotionsof anger and impatience. That he, at the beam of whose eye everycountenance fell, and to whom in the fierceness of his wrath no one wasdaring enough to reply, should now be regarded with avowed dislike, andtreated with unceremonious censure, was a thing he could not endure torecollect or believe. Symptoms of the universal disgust smote him atevery instant, and at every blow he writhed with intolerable anguish. His rage was unbounded and raving. He repelled every attack with thefiercest indignation; while the more he struggled, the more desperatehis situation appeared to become. At length he determined to collect hisstrength for a decisive effort, and to meet the whole tide of publicopinion in a single scene. 

In pursuance of these thoughts he resolved to repair, without delay, tothe rural assembly which I have already mentioned in the course of mystory. Miss Melville had now been dead one month. Mr. Falkland had beenabsent the last week in a distant part of the country, and was notexpected to return for a week longer. Mr. Tyrrel willingly embraced theopportunity, trusting, if he could now effect his re-establishment, thathe should easily preserve the ground he had gained, even in the face ofhis formidable rival. Mr. Tyrrel was not deficient in courage; but heconceived the present to be too important an epoch in his life to allowhim to make any unnecessary risk in his chance for future ease andimportance. 

There was a sort of bustle that took place at his entrance into theassembly, it having been agreed by the gentlemen of the assembly, thatMr. Tyrrel was to be refused admittance, as a person with whom they didnot choose to associate. This vote had already been notified to him byletter by the master of the ceremonies, but the intelligence was rathercalculated, with a man of Mr. Tyrrel's disposition, to excite defiancethan to overawe. At the door of the assembly he was personally met bythe master of the ceremonies, who had perceived the arrival of anequipage, and who now endeavoured to repeat his prohibition: but he wasthrust aside by Mr. Tyrrel with an air of native authority and ineffablecontempt. As he entered; every eye was turned upon him. Presently allthe gentlemen in the room assembled round him. Some endeavoured tohustle him, and others began to expostulate. But he found the secreteffectually to silence the one set, and to shake off the other. Hismuscular form, the well-known eminence of his intellectual powers, thelong habits to which every man was formed of acknowledging hisascendancy, were all in his favour. He considered himself as playing adesperate stake, and had roused all the energies he possessed, to enablehim to do justice to so interesting a transaction. Disengaged from theinsects that at first pestered him, he paced up and down the room with amagisterial stride, and flashed an angry glance on every side. He thenbroke silence. "If any one had any thing to say to him, he should knowwhere and how to answer him. He would advise any such person, however, to consider well what he was about. If any man imagined he had any thingpersonally to complain of, it was very well. But he did expect thatnobody there would be ignorant and raw enough to meddle with what was nobusiness of theirs, and intrude into the concerns of any man's privatefamily. "

This being a sort of defiance, one and another gentleman advanced toanswer it. He that was first began to speak; but Mr. Tyrrel, by theexpression of his countenance and a peremptory tone, by well-timedinterruptions and pertinent insinuations, caused him first to hesitate, and then to be silent. He seemed to be fast advancing to the triumph hehad promised himself. The whole company were astonished. They felt thesame abhorrence and condemnation of his character; but they could nothelp admiring the courage and resources he displayed upon the presentoccasion. They could without difficulty have concentred afresh theirindignant feelings, but they seemed to want a leader. 

At this critical moment Mr. Falkland entered the room. Mere accident hadenabled him to return sooner than he expected. 

Both he and Mr. Tyrrel reddened at sight of each other. He advancedtowards Mr. Tyrrel without a moment's pause, and in a peremptory voiceasked him what he did there?

"Here? What do you mean by that? This place is as free to me as you, andyou are the last person to whom I shall deign to give an account ofmyself. "

"Sir, the place is not free to you. Do not you know, you have been votedout? Whatever were your rights, your infamous conduct has forfeitedthem. "

"Mr. What do you call yourself, if you have anything to say to me, choose a proper time and place. Do not think to put on your bullyingairs under shelter of this company! I will not endure it. "

"You are mistaken, sir. This public scene is the only place where I canhave any thing to say to you. If you would not hear the universalindignation of mankind, you must not come into the society of men. --MissMelville!--Shame upon you, inhuman, unrelenting tyrant! Can you hear hername, and not sink into the earth? Can you retire into solitude, and notsee her pale and patient ghost rising to reproach you? Can you recollecther virtues, her innocence, her spotless manners, her unresentfultemper, and not run distracted with remorse? Have you not killed her inthe first bloom of her youth? Can you bear to think that she now liesmouldering in the grave through your cursed contrivance, that deserved acrown, ten thousand times more than you deserve to live? And do youexpect that mankind will ever forget, or forgive such a deed? Go, miserable wretch; think yourself too happy that you are permitted to flythe face of man! Why, what a pitiful figure do you make at this moment!Do you think that any thing could bring so hardened a wretch as you areto shrink from reproach, if your conscience were not in confederacy withthem that reproached you? And were you fool enough to believe that anyobstinacy, however determined, could enable you to despise the keenrebuke of justice? Go, shrink into your miserable self! Begone, and letme never be blasted with your sight again!"

And here, incredible as it may appear, Mr. Tyrrel began to obey hisimperious censurer. His looks were full of wildness and horror; hislimbs trembled; and his tongue refused its office. He felt no power ofresisting the impetuous torrent of reproach that was poured upon him. Hehesitated; he was ashamed of his own defeat; he seemed to wish to denyit. But his struggles were ineffectual; every attempt perished in themoment it was made. The general voice was eager to abash him. As hisconfusion became more visible, the outcry increased. It swelledgradually to hootings, tumult, and a deafening noise of indignation. Atlength he willingly retired from the public scene, unable any longer toendure the sensations it inflicted. 

In about an hour and a half he returned. No precaution had been takenagainst this incident, for nothing could be more unexpected. In theinterval he had intoxicated himself with large draughts of brandy. In amoment he was in a part of the room where Mr. Falkland was standing, andwith one blow of his muscular arm levelled him with the earth. The blowhowever was not stunning, and Mr. Falkland rose again immediately. It isobvious to perceive how unequal he must have been in this species ofcontest. He was scarcely risen before Mr. Tyrrel repeated his blow. Mr. Falkland was now upon his guard, and did not fall. But the blows of hisadversary were redoubled with a rapidity difficult to conceive, and Mr. Falkland was once again brought to the earth. In this situation Mr. Tyrrel kicked his prostrate enemy, and stooped apparently with theintention of dragging him along the floor. All this passed in a moment, and the gentlemen present had not time to recover their surprise. Theynow interfered, and Mr. Tyrrel once more quitted the apartment. 

It is difficult to conceive any event more terrible to the individualupon whom it fell, than the treatment which Mr. Falkland in thisinstance experienced. Every passion of his life was calculated to makehim feel it more acutely. He had repeatedly exerted an uncommon energyand prudence, to prevent the misunderstanding between Mr. Tyrrel andhimself from proceeding to extremities; but in vain! It was closed witha catastrophe, exceeding all that he had feared, or that the mostpenetrating foresight could have suggested. To Mr. Falkland disgrace wasworse than death. The slightest breath of dishonour would have stung himto the very soul. What must it have been with this complication ofignominy, base, humiliating, and public? Could Mr. Tyrrel haveunderstood the evil he inflicted, even he, under all his circumstancesof provocation, could scarcely have perpetrated it. Mr. Falkland's mindwas full of uproar like the war of contending elements, and of suchsuffering as casts contempt on the refinements of inventive cruelty. Hewished for annihilation, to lie down in eternal oblivion, in aninsensibility, which, compared with what he experienced, was scarcelyless enviable than beatitude itself. Horror, detestation, revenge, inexpressible longings to shake off the evil, and a persuasion that inthis case all effort was powerless, filled his soul even to bursting. 

One other event closed the transactions of this memorable evening. Mr. Falkland was baffled of the vengeance that yet remained to him. Mr. Tyrrel was found by some of the company dead in the street, having beenmurdered at the distance of a few yards from the assembly house. 

CHAPTER XII. 

I shall endeavour to state the remainder of this narrative in the wordsof Mr. Collins. The reader has already had occasion to perceive that Mr. Collins was a man of no vulgar order; and his reflections on the subjectwere uncommonly judicious. 

"This day was the crisis of Mr. Falkland's history. From hence took itsbeginning that gloomy and unsociable melancholy, of which he has sincebeen the victim. No two characters can be in certain respects morestrongly contrasted, than the Mr. Falkland of a date prior andsubsequent to these events. Hitherto he had been attended by a fortuneperpetually prosperous. His mind was sanguine; full of that undoubtingconfidence in its own powers which prosperity is qualified to produce. Though the habits of his life were those of a serious and sublimevisionary they were nevertheless full of cheerfulness and tranquillity. But from this moment, his pride, and the lofty adventurousness of hisspirit, were effectually subdued. From an object of envy he was changedinto an object of compassion. Life, which hitherto no one had moreexquisitely enjoyed, became a burden to him. No more self-complacency, no more rapture, no more self-approving and heart-transportingbenevolence! He who had lived beyond any man upon the grand andanimating reveries of the imagination, seemed now to have no visions butof anguish and despair. His case was peculiarly worthy of sympathy, since, no doubt, if rectitude and purity of disposition could give atitle to happiness, few men could exhibit a more consistent and powerfulclaim than Mr. Falkland. 

"He was too deeply pervaded with the idle and groundless romances ofchivalry, ever to forget the situation, humiliating and dishonourableaccording to his ideas, in which he had been placed upon this occasion. There is a mysterious sort of divinity annexed to the person of a trueknight, that makes any species of brute violence committed upon itindelible and immortal. To be knocked down, cuffed, kicked, draggedalong the floor! Sacred heaven, the memory of such a treatment was notto be endured! No future lustration could ever remove the stain: and, what was perhaps still worse in the present case, the offender havingceased to exist, the lustration which the laws of knight-errantryprescribe was rendered impossible. 

"In some future period of human improvement, it is probable, that thatcalamity will be in a manner unintelligible, which in the presentinstance contributed to tarnish and wither the excellence of one of themost elevated and amiable of human minds. If Mr. Falkland had reflectedwith perfect accuracy upon the case, he would probably have been ableto look down with indifference upon a wound, which, as it was, piercedto his very vitals. How much more dignity, than in the modern duellist, do we find in Themistocles, the most gallant of the Greeks; who, whenEurybiades, his commander in chief, in answer to some of hisremonstrances, lifted his cane over him with a menacing air, accostedhim in that noble apostrophe, 'Strike, but hear!'

"How would a man of true discernment in such a case reply to his brutalassailant? 'I make it my boast that I can endure calamity and pain:shall I not be able to endure the trifling inconvenience that your follycan inflict upon me? Perhaps a human being would be more accomplished, if he understood the science of personal defence; but how few would bethe occasions upon which he would be called to exert it? How few personswould he encounter so unjust and injurious as you, if his own conductwere directed by the principles of reason and benevolence? Beside, hownarrow would be the use of this science when acquired? It will scarcelyput the man of delicate make and petty stature upon a level with theathletic pugilist; and, if it did in some measure secure me against themalice of a single adversary, still my person and my life, so far asmere force is concerned, would always be at the mercy of two. Furtherthan immediate defence against actual violence, it could never be of useto me. The man who can deliberately meet his adversary for the purposeof exposing the person of one or both of them to injury, tramples uponevery principle of reason and equity. Duelling is the vilest of allegotism, treating the public, who has a claim to all my powers andexertions, as if it were nothing, and myself, or rather anunintelligible chimera I annex to myself, as if it were entitled to myexclusive attention. I am unable to cope with you: what then? Can thatcircumstance dishonour me? No; I can only be dishonoured by perpetratingan unjust action. My honour is in my own keeping, beyond the reach ofall mankind. Strike! I am passive. No injury that you can inflict, shallprovoke me to expose you or myself to unnecessary evil. I refuse that;but I am not therefore pusillanimous: when I refuse any danger orsuffering by which the general good may be promoted, then brand me for acoward!

"These reasonings, however simple and irresistible they must be found bya dispassionate enquirer, are little reflected on by the world at large, and were most of all uncongenial to the prejudices of Mr. Falkland. 

"But the public disgrace and chastisement that had been imposed uponhim, intolerable as they were to be recollected, were not the whole ofthe mischief that redounded to our unfortunate patron from thetransactions of that day. It was presently whispered that he was noother than the murderer of his antagonist. This rumour was of too muchimportance to the very continuance of his life, to justify its beingconcealed from him. He heard it with inexpressible astonishment andhorror; it formed a dreadful addition to the load of intellectualanguish that already oppressed him. No man had ever held his reputationmore dear than Mr. Falkland; and now, in one day, he was fallen underthe most exquisite calamities, a complicated personal insult, and theimputation of the foulest of crimes. He might have fled; for no one wasforward to proceed against a man so adored as Mr. Falkland, or inrevenge of one so universally execrated as Mr. Tyrrel. But flight hedisdained. In the mean time the affair was of the most seriousmagnitude, and the rumour unchecked seemed daily to increase instrength. Mr. Falkland appeared sometimes inclined to adopt such stepsas might have been best calculated to bring the imputation to a speedytrial. But he probably feared, by too direct an appeal to judicature, torender more precise an imputation, the memory of which he deprecated; atthe same time that he was sufficiently willing to meet the severestscrutiny, and, if he could not hope to have it forgotten that he hadever been accused, to prove in the most satisfactory manner that theaccusation was unjust. 

"The neighbouring magistrates at length conceived it necessary to takesome steps upon the subject. Without causing Mr. Falkland to beapprehended, they sent to desire he would appear before them at one oftheir meetings. The proceeding being thus opened, Mr. Falkland expressedhis hope that, if the business were likely to stop there, theirinvestigation might at least be rendered as solemn as possible. Themeeting was numerous; every person of a respectable class in society wasadmitted to be an auditor; the whole town, one of the most considerablein the county, was apprised of the nature of the business. Few trials, invested with all the forms of judgment, have excited so general aninterest. A trial, under the present circumstances, was scarcelyattainable; and it seemed to be the wish both of principal and umpires, to give to this transaction all the momentary notoriety and decisivenessof a trial. 

"The magistrates investigated the particulars of the story. Mr. Falkland, it appeared, had left the rooms immediately after hisassailant; and though he had been attended by one or two of thegentlemen to his inn, it was proved that he had left them upon someslight occasion, as soon as he arrived at it, and that, when theyenquired for him of the waiters, he had already mounted his horse andridden home. 

"By the nature of the case, no particular facts could be stated inbalance against these. As soon as they had been sufficiently detailed, Mr. Falkland therefore proceeded to his defence. Several copies of hisdefence were-made, and Mr. Falkland seemed, for a short time, to havehad the idea of sending it to the press, though, for some reason orother, he afterwards suppressed it. I have one of the copies in mypossession, and I will read it to you. "

Saying this, Mr. Collins rose, and took it from a private drawer in hisescritoire. During this action he appeared to recollect himself. He didnot, in the strict sense of the word, hesitate; but he was prompted tomake some apology for what he was doing. 

"You seem never to have heard of this memorable transaction; and, indeed, that is little to be wondered at, since the good nature of theworld is interested in suppressing it, and it is deemed a disgrace to aman to have defended himself from a criminal imputation, though withcircumstances the most satisfactory and honourable. It may be supposedthat this suppression is particularly acceptable to Mr. Falkland; and Ishould not have acted in contradiction to his modes of thinking incommunicating the story to you, had there not been circumstances ofpeculiar urgency, that seemed to render the communication desirable. "Saying this, he proceeded to read from the paper in his hand. 

"Gentlemen, "I stand here accused of a crime, the most black that any human creatureis capable of perpetrating. I am innocent. I have no fear that I shallfail to make every person in this company acknowledge my innocence. Inthe mean time, what must be my feelings? Conscious as I am of deservingapprobation and not censure, of having passed my life in acts ofjustice and philanthropy, can any thing be more deplorable than for meto answer to a charge of murder? So wretched is my situation, that Icannot accept your gratuitous acquittal, if you should be disposed tobestow it. I must answer to an imputation, the very thought of which isten thousand times worse to me than death. I must exert the whole energyof my mind, to prevent my being ranked with the vilest of men. 

"Gentlemen, this is a situation in which a man may be allowed to boast. Accursed situation! No man need envy me the vile and polluted triumph Iam now to gain! I have called no witnesses to my character. Great God!what sort of character is that which must be supported by witnesses?But, if I must speak, look round the company, ask of every one present, enquire of your own hearts! Not one word of reproach was ever whisperedagainst me. I do not hesitate to call upon those who have known me most, to afford me the most honourable testimony. 

"My life has been spent in the keenest and most unintermittedsensibility to reputation. I am almost indifferent as to what shall bethe event of this day. I would not open my mouth upon the occasion, ifmy life were the only thing that was at stake. It is not in the power ofyour decision to restore to me my unblemished reputation, to obliteratethe disgrace I have suffered, or to prevent it from being rememberedthat I have been brought to examination upon a charge of murder. Yourdecision can never have the efficacy to prevent the miserable remains ofmy existence from being the most intolerable of all burthens. 

"I am accused of having committed murder upon the body of BarnabasTyrrel. I would most joyfully have given every farthing I possess, anddevoted myself to perpetual beggary, to have preserved his life. Hislife was precious to me, beyond that of all mankind. In my opinion, thegreatest injustice committed by his unknown assassin was that ofdefrauding me of my just revenge. I confess that I would have called himout to the field, and that our encounter should not have been terminatedbut by the death of one or both of us. This would have been a pitifuland inadequate compensation for his unparalleled insult, but it was allthat remained. 

"I ask for no pity, but I must openly declare that never was anymisfortune so horrible as mine. I would willingly have taken refuge fromthe recollection of that night in a voluntary death. Life was nowstripped of all those recommendations, for the sake of which it was dearto me. But even this consolation is denied me. I am compelled to dragfor ever the intolerable load of existence, upon penalty, if at anyperiod, however remote, I shake it off, of having that impatienceregarded as confirming a charge of murder. Gentlemen, if by yourdecision you could take away my life, without that act being connectedwith my disgrace, I would bless the cord that stopped the breath of myexistence for ever. 

"You all know how easily I might have fled from this purgation. If I hadbeen guilty, should I not have embraced the opportunity? But, as it was, I could not. Reputation has been the idol, the jewel of my life. I couldnever have borne to think that a human creature, in the remotest part ofthe globe, should believe that I was a criminal. Alas! what a deity itis that I have chosen for my worship! I have entailed upon myselfeverlasting agony and despair!

"I have but one word to add. Gentlemen, I charge you to do me theimperfect justice that is in your power! My life is a worthless thing. But my honour, the empty remains of honour I have now to boast, is inyour judgment, and you will each of you, from this day, have imposedupon yourselves the task of its vindicators. It is little that you cando for me; but it is not less your duty to do that little. May that Godwho is the fountain of honour and good prosper and protect you! The manwho now stands before you is devoted to perpetual barrenness and blast!He has nothing to hope for beyond the feeble consolation of this day!"

"You will easily imagine that Mr. Falkland was discharged with everycircumstance of credit. Nothing is more to be deplored in humaninstitutions, than that the ideas of mankind should have annexed asentiment of disgrace to a purgation thus satisfactory and decisive. Noone entertained the shadow of a doubt upon the subject, and yet a mereconcurrence of circumstances made it necessary that the best of menshould be publicly put on his defence, as if really under suspicion ofan atrocious crime. It may be granted indeed that Mr. Falkland had hisfaults, but those very faults placed him at a still further distancefrom the criminality in question. He was the fool of honour and fame: aman whom, in the pursuit of reputation, nothing could divert; who wouldhave purchased the character of a true, gallant, and undaunted hero, atthe expense of worlds, and who thought every calamity nominal but astain upon his honour. How atrociously absurd to suppose any motivecapable of inducing such a man to play the part of a lurking assassin?How unfeeling to oblige him to defend himself from such an imputation?Did any man, and, least of all, a man of the purest honour, ever pass ina moment, from a life unstained by a single act of injury, to theconsummation of human depravity?

"When the decision of the magistrates was declared, a general murmur ofapplause and involuntary transport burst forth from every one present. It was at first low, and gradually became louder. As it was theexpression of rapturous delight, and an emotion disinterested anddivine, so there was an indescribable something in the very sound, thatcarried it home to the heart, and convinced every spectator that therewas no merely personal pleasure which ever existed, that would not befoolish and feeble in the comparison. Every one strove who should mostexpress his esteem of the amiable accused. Mr. Falkland was no soonerwithdrawn than the gentlemen present determined to give a still furthersanction to the business, by their congratulations. They immediatelynamed a deputation to wait upon him for that purpose. Every oneconcurred to assist the general sentiment. It was a sort of sympatheticfeeling that took hold upon all ranks and degrees. The multitudereceived him with huzzas, they took his horses from his carriage, dragged him along in triumph, and attended him many miles on his returnto his own habitation. It seemed as if a public examination upon acriminal charge, which had hitherto been considered in every event as abrand of disgrace, was converted, in the present instance, into anoccasion of enthusiastic adoration and unexampled honour. 

"Nothing could reach the heart of Mr. Falkland. He was not insensible tothe general kindness and exertions; but it was too evident that themelancholy that had taken hold of his mind was invincible. 

"It was only a few weeks after this memorable scene that the realmurderer was discovered. Every part of this story was extraordinary. Thereal murderer was Hawkins. He was found with his son, under a feignedname, at a village about thirty miles distant, in want of all thenecessaries of life. He had lived there, from the period of his flight, in so private a manner, that all the enquiries that had been set onfoot, by the benevolence of Mr. Falkland, or the insatiable malice ofMr. Tyrrel, had been insufficient to discover him. The first thing thathad led to the detection was a parcel of clothes covered with blood, that were found in a ditch, and that, when drawn out, were known by thepeople of the village to belong to this man. The murder of Mr. Tyrrelwas not a circumstance that could be unknown, and suspicion wasimmediately roused. A diligent search being made, the rusty handle, withpart of the blade of a knife, was found thrown in a corner of hislodging, which, being applied to a piece of the point of a knife thathad been broken in the wound, appeared exactly to correspond. Uponfurther enquiry two rustics, who had been accidentally on the spot, remembered to have seen Hawkins and his son in the town that veryevening and to have called after them, and received no answer, thoughthey were sure of their persons. Upon this accumulated evidence bothHawkins and his son were tried, condemned, and afterwards executed. Inthe interval between the sentence and execution Hawkins confessed hisguilt with many marks of compunction; though there are persons by whomthis is denied; but I have taken some pains to enquire into the fact, and am persuaded that their disbelief is precipitate and groundless. 

"The cruel injustice that this man had suffered from his village-tyrantwas not forgotten upon the present occasion. It was by a strangefatality that the barbarous proceedings of Mr. Tyrrel seemed never tofall short of their completion; and even his death served eventually toconsummate the ruin of a man he hated; a circumstance which, if it couldhave come to his knowledge, would perhaps have in some measure consoledhim for his untimely end. This poor Hawkins was surely entitled to somepity, since his being finally urged to desperation, and brought, together with his son, to an ignominious fate, was originally owing tothe sturdiness of his virtue and independence. But the compassion of thepublic was in a great measure shut against him, as they thought it apiece of barbarous and unpardonable selfishness, that he had not rathercome boldly forward to meet the consequences of his own conduct, thansuffer a man of so much public worth as Mr. Falkland, and who had beenso desirous of doing him good, to be exposed to the risk of being triedfor a murder that he had committed. 

"From this time to the present Mr. Falkland has been nearly such as youat present see him. Though it be several years since these transactions, the impression they made is for ever fresh in the mind of ourunfortunate patron. From thenceforward his habits became totallydifferent. He had before been fond of public scenes, and acting a partin the midst of the people among whom he immediately resided. He nowmade himself a rigid recluse. He had no associates, no friends. Inconsolable himself, he yet wished to treat others with kindness. Therewas a solemn sadness in his manner, attended with the most perfectgentleness and humanity. Every body respects him, for his benevolence isunalterable; but there is a stately coldness and reserve in hisbehaviour, which makes it difficult for those about him to regard himwith the familiarity of affection. These symptoms are uninterrupted, except at certain times when his sufferings become intolerable, and hedisplays the marks of a furious insanity. At those times his language isfearful and mysterious, and he seems to figure to himself by turns everysort of persecution and alarm, which may be supposed to attend upon anaccusation of murder. But, sensible of his own weakness, he is anxiousat such times to withdraw into solitude: and his domestics in generalknow nothing of him, but the uncommunicative and haughty, but mild, dejection that accompanies every thing he does. "

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 

 * * * * *

VOLUME THE SECOND. 

CHAPTER I. 

I have stated the narrative of Mr. Collins, interspersed with such otherinformation as I was able to collect, with all the exactness that mymemory, assisted by certain memorandums I made at the time, will afford. I do not pretend to warrant the authenticity of any part of thesememoirs, except so much as fell under my own knowledge, and that partshall be given with the same simplicity and accuracy, that I wouldobserve towards a court which was to decide in the last resort uponevery thing dear to me. The same scrupulous fidelity restrains me fromaltering the manner of Mr. Collins's narrative to adapt it to theprecepts of my own taste; and it will soon be perceived how essentialthat narrative is to the elucidation of my history. 

The intention of my friend in this communication was to give me ease;but he in reality added to my embarrassment. Hitherto I had had nointercourse with the world and its passions; and, though I was nottotally unacquainted with them as they appear in books, this proved oflittle service to me when I came to witness them myself. The case seemedentirely altered, when the subject of those passions was continuallybefore my eyes, and the events had happened but the other day as itwere, in the very neighbourhood where I lived. There was a connectionand progress in this narrative, which made it altogether unlike thelittle village incidents I had hitherto known. My feelings weresuccessively interested for the different persons that were brought uponthe scene. My veneration was excited for Mr. Clare, and my applause forthe intrepidity of Mrs. Hammond. I was astonished that any humancreature should be so shockingly perverted as Mr. Tyrrel. I paid thetribute of my tears to the memory of the artless Miss Melville. I founda thousand fresh reasons to admire and love Mr. Falkland. 

At present I was satisfied with thus considering every incident in itsobvious sense. But the story I had heard was for ever in my thoughts, and I was peculiarly interested to comprehend its full import. I turnedit a thousand ways, and examined it in every point of view. In theoriginal communication it appeared sufficiently distinct andsatisfactory; but as I brooded over it, it gradually became mysterious. There was something strange in the character of Hawkins. So firm, sosturdily honest and just, as he appeared at first; all at once to becomea murderer! His first behaviour under the prosecution, how accuratelywas it calculated to prepossess one in his favour! To be sure, if hewere guilty, it was unpardonable in him to permit a man of so muchdignity and worth as Mr. Falkland to suffer under the imputation of hiscrime! And yet I could not help bitterly compassionating the honestfellow, brought to the gallows, as he was, strictly speaking, by themachinations of that devil incarnate, Mr. Tyrrel. His son, too, that sonfor whom he voluntarily sacrificed his all, to die with him at the sametree; surely never was a story more affecting!

Was it possible, after all, that Mr. Falkland should be the murderer?The reader will scarcely believe, that the idea suggested itself to mymind that I would ask him. It was but a passing thought; but it servesto mark the simplicity of my character. Then I recollected the virtuesof my master, almost too sublime for human nature; I thought of hissufferings so unexampled, so unmerited; and chid myself for thesuspicion. The dying confession of Hawkins recurred to my mind; and Ifelt that there was no longer a possibility of doubting. And yet whatwas the meaning of all Mr. Falkland's agonies and terrors? In fine, theidea having once occurred to my mind, it was fixed there for ever. Mythoughts fluctuated from conjecture to conjecture, but this was thecentre about which they revolved. I determined to place myself as awatch upon my patron. 

The instant I had chosen this employment for myself, I found a strangesort of pleasure in it. To do what is forbidden always has its charms, because we have an indistinct apprehension of something arbitrary andtyrannical in the prohibition. To be a spy upon Mr. Falkland! That therewas danger in the employment, served to give an alluring pungency to thechoice. I remembered the stern reprimand I had received, and histerrible looks; and the recollection gave a kind of tingling sensation, not altogether unallied to enjoyment. The further I advanced, the morethe sensation was irresistible. I seemed to myself perpetually upon thebrink of being countermined, and perpetually roused to guard my designs. The more impenetrable Mr. Falkland was determined to be, the moreuncontrollable was my curiosity. Through the whole, my alarm andapprehension of personal danger had a large mixture of frankness andsimplicity, conscious of meaning no ill, that made me continually readyto say every thing that was upon my mind, and would not suffer me tobelieve that, when things were brought to the test, any one could beseriously angry with me. 

These reflections led gradually to a new state of my mind. When I hadfirst removed into Mr. Falkland's family, the novelty of the scenerendered me cautious and reserved. The distant and solemn manners of mymaster seemed to have annihilated my constitutional gaiety. But thenovelty by degrees wore off, and my constraint in the same degreediminished. The story I had now heard, and the curiosity it excited, restored to me activity, eagerness, and courage. I had always had apropensity to communicate my thoughts; my age was, of course, inclinedto talkativeness; and I ventured occasionally in a sort of hesitatingway, as if questioning whether such a conduct might be allowed, toexpress my sentiments as they arose, in the presence of Mr. Falkland. 

The first time I did so, he looked at me with an air of surprise, mademe no answer, and presently took occasion to leave me. The experimentwas soon after repeated. My master seemed half inclined to encourage me, and yet doubtful whether he might venture. 

He had long been a stranger to pleasure of every sort, and my artlessand untaught remarks appeared to promise him some amusement. Could anamusement of this sort be dangerous?

In this uncertainty he could not probably find it in his heart to treatwith severity my innocent effusions. I needed but little encouragement;for the perturbation of my mind stood in want of this relief. Mysimplicity, arising from my being a total stranger to the intercourse ofthe world, was accompanied with a mind in some degree cultivated withreading, and perhaps not altogether destitute of observation and talent. My remarks were therefore perpetually unexpected, at one time implyingextreme ignorance, and at another some portion of acuteness, but at alltimes having an air of innocence, frankness, and courage. There wasstill an apparent want of design in the manner, even after I was excitedaccurately to compare my observations, and study the inferences to whichthey led; for the effect of old habit was more visible than that of arecently conceived purpose which was yet scarcely mature. 

Mr. Falkland's situation was like that of a fish that plays with thebait employed to entrap him. By my manner he was in a certain degreeencouraged to lay aside his usual reserve, and relax his stateliness;till some abrupt observation or interrogatory stung him intorecollection, and brought back his alarm. Still it was evident that hebore about him a secret wound. Whenever the cause of his sorrows wastouched, though in a manner the most indirect and remote, hiscountenance altered, his distemper returned, and it was with difficultythat he could suppress his emotions, sometimes conquering himself withpainful effort, and sometimes bursting into a sort of paroxysm ofinsanity, and hastening to bury himself in solitude. 

These appearances I too frequently interpreted into grounds ofsuspicion, though I might with equal probability and more liberalityhave ascribed them to the cruel mortifications he had encountered in theobjects of his darling ambition. Mr. Collins had strongly urged me tosecrecy; and Mr. Falkland, whenever my gesture or his consciousnessimpressed him with the idea of my knowing more than I expressed, lookedat me with wistful earnestness, as questioning what was the degree ofinformation I possessed, and how it was obtained. But again at our nextinterview the simple vivacity of my manner restored his tranquillity, obliterated the emotion of which I had been the cause, and placedthings afresh in their former situation. 

The longer this humble familiarity on my part had continued, the moreeffort it would require to suppress it; and Mr. Falkland was neitherwilling to mortify me by a severe prohibition of speech, nor evenperhaps to make me of so much consequence, as that prohibition mightseem to imply. Though I was curious, it must not be supposed that I hadthe object of my enquiry for ever in my mind, or that my questions andinnuendoes were perpetually regulated with the cunning of a grey-headedinquisitor. The secret wound of Mr. Falkland's mind was much moreuniformly present to his recollection than to mine; and a thousand timeshe applied the remarks that occurred in conversation; when I had not theremotest idea of such an application, till some singularity in hismanner brought it back to my thoughts. The consciousness of this morbidsensibility, and the imagination that its influence might perhapsconstitute the whole of the case, served probably to spur Mr. Falklandagain to the charge, and connect a sentiment of shame, with everyproject that suggested itself for interrupting the freedom of ourintercourse. 

I will give a specimen of the conversations to which I allude; and, asit shall be selected from those which began upon topics the most generaland remote, the reader will easily imagine the disturbance that wasalmost daily endured by a mind so tremblingly alive as that of mypatron. 

"Pray, sir, " said I, one day as I was assisting Mr. Falkland inarranging some papers, previously to their being transcribed into hiscollection, "how came Alexander of Macedon to be surnamed the Great?"

"How came it? Did you never read his history?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Well, Williams, and could you find no reasons there?"

"Why, I do not know, sir. I could find reasons why he should be sofamous; but every man that is talked of is not admired. Judges differabout the merits of Alexander. Doctor Prideaux says in his Connection, that he deserves only to be called the Great Cut-throat; and the authorof Tom Jones has written a volume, to prove that he and all otherconquerors ought to be classed with Jonathan Wild. "

Mr. Falkland reddened at these citations. 

"Accursed blasphemy! Did these authors think that, by the coarseness oftheir ribaldry, they could destroy his well-earned fame? Are learning, sensibility, and taste, no securities to exempt their possessor fromthis vulgar abuse? Did you ever read, Williams, of a man more gallant, generous, and free? Was ever mortal so completely the reverse of everything engrossing and selfish? He formed to himself a sublime image ofexcellence, and his only ambition was to realise it in his own story. Remember his giving away every thing when he set out upon his grandexpedition, professedly reserving for himself nothing but hope. Recollect his heroic confidence in Philip the physician, and his entireand unalterable friendship for Ephestion. He treated the captive familyof Darius with the most cordial urbanity, and the venerable Sysigambiswith all the tenderness and attention of a son to his mother. Never takethe judgment, Williams, upon such a subject, of a clerical pedant or aWestminster justice. Examine for yourself, and you will find inAlexander a model of honour, generosity, and disinterestedness, --a manwho, for the cultivated liberality of his mind, and the unparalleledgrandeur of his projects, must stand alone the spectacle and admirationof all ages of the world. "

"Ah, sir! it is a fine thing for us to sit here and compose hispanegyric. But shall I forget what a vast expense was bestowed inerecting the monument of his fame? Was not he the common disturber ofmankind? Did not he over-run nations that would never have heard of himbut for his devastations? How many hundred thousands of lives did hesacrifice in his career? What must I think of his cruelties; a wholetribe massacred for a crime committed by their ancestors one hundred andfifty years before; fifty thousand sold into slavery; two thousandcrucified for their gallant defence of their country? Man is surely astrange sort of creature, who never praises any one more heartily thanhim who has spread destruction and ruin over the face of nations!"

"The way of thinking you express, Williams, is natural enough, and Icannot blame you for it. But let me hope that you will become moreliberal. The death of a hundred thousand men is at first sight veryshocking; but what in reality are a hundred thousand such men, more thana hundred thousand sheep? It is mind, Williams, the generation ofknowledge and virtue, that we ought to love. This was the project ofAlexander; he set out in a great undertaking to civilise mankind; hedelivered the vast continent of Asia from the stupidity and degradationof the Persian monarchy: and, though he was cut off in the midst of hiscareer, we may easily perceive the vast effects of his project. Grecianliterature and cultivation, the Seleucidae, the Antiochuses, and thePtolemies followed, in nations which before had been sunk to thecondition of brutes. Alexander was the builder, as notoriously as thedestroyer, of cities. "

"And yet, sir, I am afraid that the pike and the battle-axe are not theright instruments for making men wise. Suppose it were admitted thatthe lives of men were to be sacrificed without remorse if a paramountgood were to result, it seems to me as if murder and massacre were but avery left-handed way of producing civilisation and love. But pray, donot you think this great hero was a sort of a madman? What now will yousay to his firing the palace of Persepolis, his weeping for other worldsto conquer, and his marching his whole army over the burning sands ofLibya, merely to visit a temple, and persuade mankind that he was theson of Jupiter Ammon?"

"Alexander, my boy, has been much misunderstood. Mankind have revengedthemselves upon him by misrepresentation, for having so far eclipsed therest of his species. It was necessary to the realising his project, thathe should pass for a god. It was the only way by which he could get afirm hold upon the veneration of the stupid and bigoted Persians. It wasthis, and not a mad vanity, that was the source of his proceeding. Andhow much had he to struggle with in this respect, in the unapprehendingobstinacy of some of his Macedonians?"

"Why then, sir, at last Alexander did but employ means that allpoliticians profess to use, as well as he. He dragooned men into wisdom, and cheated them into the pursuit of their own happiness. But what isworse, sir, this Alexander, in the paroxysm of his headlong rage, sparedneither friend nor foe. You will not pretend to justify the excesses ofhis ungovernable passion. It is impossible, sure, that a word can besaid for a man whom a momentary provocation can hurry into thecommission of murders--"

The instant I had uttered these words, I felt what it was that I haddone. There was a magnetical sympathy between me and my patron, so thattheir effect was not sooner produced upon him, than my own mindreproached me with the inhumanity of the allusion. Our confusion wasmutual. The blood forsook at once the transparent complexion of Mr. Falkland, and then rushed back again with rapidity and fierceness. Idared not utter a word, lest I should commit a new error, worse thanthat into which I had just fallen. After a short, but severe, struggleto continue the conversation, Mr. Falkland began with trepidation, butafterwards became calmer:--

"You are not candid--Alexander--You must learn more clemency--Alexander, I say, does not deserve this rigour. Do you remember his tears, hisremorse, his determined abstinence from food, which he could scarcely bepersuaded to relinquish? Did not that prove acute feeling and a rootedprinciple of equity?--Well, well, Alexander was a true and judiciouslover of mankind, and his real merits have been little comprehended. "

I know not how to make the state of my mind at that moment accuratelyunderstood. When one idea has got possession of the soul, it is scarcelypossible to keep it from finding its way to the lips. Error, oncecommitted, has a fascinating power, like that ascribed to the eyes ofthe rattlesnake, to draw us into a second error. It deprives us of thatproud confidence in our own strength, to which we are indebted for somuch of our virtue. Curiosity is a restless propensity, and often doesbut hurry us forward the more irresistibly, the greater is the dangerthat attends its indulgence. 

"Clitus, " said I, "was a man of very coarse and provoking manners, washe not?"

Mr. Falkland felt the full force of this appeal. He gave me apenetrating look, as if he would see my very soul. His eyes were then inan instant withdrawn. I could perceive him seized with a convulsiveshuddering which, though strongly counteracted, and therefore scarcelyvisible, had I know not what of terrible in it. He left his employment, strode about the room in anger, his visage gradually assumed anexpression as of supernatural barbarity, he quitted the apartmentabruptly, and flung the door with a violence that seemed to shake thehouse. 

"Is this, " said I, "the fruit of conscious guilt, or of the disgust thata man of honour conceives at guilt undeservedly imputed?"

CHAPTER II. 

The reader will feel how rapidly I was advancing to the brink of theprecipice. I had a confused apprehension of what I was doing, but Icould not stop myself. "Is it possible, " said I, "that Mr. Falkland, whois thus overwhelmed with a sense of the unmerited dishonour that hasbeen fastened upon him in the face of the world, will long endure thepresence of a raw and unfriended youth, who is perpetually bringing backthat dishonour to his recollection, and who seems himself the mostforward to entertain the accusation?"

I felt indeed that Mr. Falkland would not hastily incline to dismiss me, for the same reason that restrained him from many other actions, whichmight seem to savour of a too tender and ambiguous sensibility. But thisreflection was little adapted to comfort me. That he should cherish inhis heart a growing hatred against me, and that he should think himselfobliged to retain me a continual thorn in his side, was an idea by nomeans of favourable augury to my future peace. 

It was some time after this that, in clearing out a case of drawers, Ifound a paper that, by some accident, had slipped behind one of thedrawers, and been overlooked. At another time perhaps my curiosity mighthave given way to the laws of decorum, and I should have restored itunopened to my master, its owner. But my eagerness for information hadbeen too much stimulated by the preceding incidents, to allow me atpresent to neglect any occasion of obtaining it. The paper proved to bea letter written by the elder Hawkins, and from its contents seemed tohave been penned when he had first been upon the point of abscondingfrom the persecutions of Mr. Tyrrel. It was as follows:--

"Honourable Sir, "I have waited some time in daily hope of your honour's return intothese parts. Old Warnes and his dame, who are left to take care of yourhouse, tell me they cannot say when that will be, nor justly in whatpart of England you are at present. For my share, misfortune comes sothick upon me, that I must determine upon something (that is forcertain), and out of hand. Our squire, who I must own at first used mekindly enough, though I am afraid that was partly out of spite to squireUnderwood, has since determined to be the ruin of me. Sir, I have beenno craven; I fought it up stoutly; for after all, you know, God blessyour honour! it is but a man to a man; but he has been too much for me. 

"Perhaps if I were to ride over to the market-town and enquire ofMunsle, your lawyer, he could tell me how to direct to you. But havinghoped and waited o' this fashion, and all in vain, has put me upon otherthoughts. I was in no hurry, sir, to apply to you; for I do not love tobe a trouble to any body. I kept that for my last stake. Well, sir, andnow that has failed me like, I am ashamed, as it were, to have thoughtof it. Have not I, thinks I, arms and legs as well as other people? I amdriven out of house and home. Well, and what then? Sure I arn't acabbage, that if you pull it out of the ground it must die. I ampennyless. True; and how many hundreds are there that live from hand tomouth all the days of their life? (Begging your honour's pardon) thinksI, if we little folks had but the wit to do for ourselves, the greatfolks would not be such maggotty changelings as they are. They wouldbegin to look about them. 

"But there is another thing that has swayed with me more than all therest. I do not know how to tell you, sir, --My poor boy, my Leonard, thepride of my life, has been three weeks in the county jail. It is trueindeed, sir. Squire Tyrrel put him there. Now, sir, every time that Ilay my head upon my pillow under my own little roof, my heart smites mewith the situation of my Leonard. I do not mean so much for thehardship; I do not so much matter that. I do not expect him to gothrough the world upon velvet! I am not such a fool. But who can tellwhat may hap in a jail! I have been three times to see him; and there isone man in the same quarter of the prison that looks so wicked! I do notmuch fancy the looks of the rest. To be sure, Leonard is as good a ladas ever lived. I think he will not give his mind to such. But come whatwill, I am determined he shall not stay among them twelve hours longer. I am an obstinate old fool perhaps; but I have taken it into my head, and I will do it. Do not ask me what. But, if I were to write to yourhonour, and wait for your answer, it might take a week or ten days more. I must not think of it!

"Squire Tyrrel is very headstrong, and you, your honour, might be alittle hottish, or so. No, I would not have any body quarrel for me. There has been mischief enough done already; and I will get myself outof the way. So I write this, your honour, merely to unload my mind. Ifeel myself equally as much bound to respect and love you, as if you haddone every thing for me, that I believe you would have done if thingshad chanced differently. It is most likely you will never hear of me anymore. If it should be so, set your worthy heart at rest. I know myselftoo well, ever to be tempted to do any thing that is really bad. I havenow my fortune to seek in the world. I have been used ill enough, Godknows. But I bear no malice; my heart is at peace with all mankind; andI forgive every body. It is like enough that poor Leonard and I may havehardship enough to undergo, among strangers, and being obliged to hideourselves like housebreakers or highwaymen. But I defy all the malice offortune to make us do an ill thing. That consolation we will always keepagainst all the crosses of a heart-breaking world. 

 "God bless you! So prays, Your honour's humble servant to command, BENJAMIN HAWKINS. "

I read this letter with considerable attention, and it occasioned memany reflections. To my way of thinking it contained a very interestingpicture of a blunt, downright, honest mind. "It is a melancholyconsideration, " said I to myself; "but such is man! To have judged fromappearances one would have said, this is a fellow to have takenfortune's buffets and rewards with an incorruptible mind. And yet seewhere it all ends! This man was capable of afterwards becoming amurderer, and finished his life at the gallows. O poverty! thou artindeed omnipotent! Thou grindest us into desperation; thou confoundestall our boasted and most deep-rooted principles; thou fillest us to thevery brim with malice and revenge, and renderest us capable of acts ofunknown horror! May I never be visited by thee in the fulness of thypower!"

Having satisfied my curiosity with respect to this paper, I took care todispose of it in such a manner as that it should be found by Mr. Falkland; at the same time that, in obedience to the principle which atpresent governed me with absolute dominion, I was willing that the wayin which it offered itself to his attention should suggest to him theidea that it had possibly passed through my hands. The next morning Isaw him, and I exerted myself to lead the conversation, which by thistime I well knew how to introduce, by insensible degrees to the point Idesired. After several previous questions, remarks, and rejoinders, Icontinued:--

"Well, sir, after all, I cannot help feeling very uncomfortably as to myideas of human nature, when I find that there is no dependence to beplaced upon its perseverance, and that, at least among the illiterate, the most promising appearances may end in the foulest disgrace. "

"You think, then, that literature and a cultivated mind are the onlyassurance for the constancy of our principles!"

"Humph!--why do you suppose, sir, that learning and ingenuity do notoften serve people rather to hide their crimes than to restrain themfrom committing them? History tells us strange things in that respect. "

"Williams, " said Mr. Falkland, a little disturbed, "you are extremelygiven to censure and severity. "

"I hope not. I am sure I am most fond of looking on the other side ofthe picture, and considering how many men have been aspersed, and evenat some time or other almost torn to pieces by their fellow-creatures, whom, when properly understood, we find worthy of our reverence andlove. "

"Indeed, " replied Mr. Falkland, with a sigh, "when I consider thesethings I do not wonder at the dying exclamation of Brutus, 'O Virtue, Isought thee as a substance, but I find thee an empty name!' I am toomuch inclined to be of his opinion. "

"Why, to be sure, sir, innocence and guilt are too much confounded inhuman life. I remember an affecting story of a poor man in the reign ofQueen Elizabeth, who would have infallibly been hanged for murder uponthe strength of circumstantial evidence, if the person really concernedhad not been himself upon the jury and prevented it. "

In saying this I touched the spring that wakened madness in his mind. Hecame up to me with a ferocious countenance, as if determined to force meinto a confession of my thoughts. A sudden pang however seemed to changehis design! he drew back with trepidation, and exclaimed, "Detested bethe universe, and the laws that govern it! Honour, justice, virtue, areall the juggle of knaves! If it were in my power I would instantly crushthe whole system into nothing!"

I replied; "Oh, sir! things are not so bad as you imagine. The world wasmade for men of sense to do what they will with. Its affairs cannot bebetter than in the direction of the genuine heroes; and as in the endthey will be found the truest friends of the whole, so the multitudehave nothing to do but to look on, be fashioned, and admire. "

Mr. Falkland made a powerful effort to recover his tranquillity. "Williams, " said he, "you instruct me well. You have a right notion ofthings, and I have great hopes of you. I will be more of a man; I willforget the past, and do better for the time to come. The future, thefuture is always our own. "

"I am sorry, sir, that I have given you pain. I am afraid to say allthat I think. But it is my opinion that mistakes will ultimately becleared up, justice done, and the true state of things come to light, inspite of the false colours that may for a time obscure it. "

The idea I suggested did not give Mr. Falkland the proper degree ofdelight. He suffered a temporary relapse. "Justice!"--he muttered. "I donot know what is justice. My case is not within the reach of commonremedies; perhaps of none. I only know that I am miserable. I began lifewith the best intentions and the most fervid philanthropy; and here Iam--miserable--miserable beyond expression or endurance. "

Having said this, he seemed suddenly to recollect himself, andre-assumed his accustomed dignity and command. "How came thisconversation?" cried he. "Who gave you a right to be my confidant? Base, artful wretch that you are! learn to be more respectful! Are my passionsto be wound and unwound by an insolent domestic? Do you think I will bean instrument to be played on at your pleasure, till you have extortedall the treasures of my soul? Begone, and fear lest you be made to payfor the temerity you have already committed!"

There was an energy and determination in the gestures with which thesewords were accompanied, that did not admit of their being disputed. Mymouth was closed; I felt as if deprived of all share of activity, andwas only able silently and passively to quit the apartment. 

CHAPTER III. 

Two days subsequent to this conversation, Mr. Falkland ordered me to becalled to him. [I shall continue to speak in my narrative of the silent, as well as the articulate part of the intercourse between us. Hiscountenance was habitually animated and expressive, much beyond that ofany other man I have seen. The curiosity which, as I have said, constituted my ruling passion, stimulated me to make it my perpetualstudy. It will also most probably happen, while I am thus employed incollecting the scattered incidents of my history, that I shall upon someoccasions annex to appearances an explanation which I was far frompossessing at the time, and was only suggested to me through the mediumof subsequent events. ]

When I entered the apartment, I remarked in Mr. Falkland's countenancean unwonted composure. This composure however did not seem to resultfrom internal ease, but from an effort which, while he prepared himselffor an interesting scene, was exerted to prevent his presence of mind, and power of voluntary action, from suffering any diminution. 

"Williams, " said he, "I am determined, whatever it may cost me, to havean explanation with you. You are a rash and inconsiderate boy, and havegiven me much disturbance. You ought to have known that, though I allowyou to talk with me upon indifferent subjects, it is very improper inyou to lead the conversation to any thing that relates to my personalconcerns. You have said many things lately in a very mysterious way, andappear to know something more than I am aware of. I am equally at a lossto guess how you came by your knowledge, as of what it consists. But Ithink I perceive too much inclination on your part to trifle with mypeace of mind. That ought not to be, nor have I deserved any suchtreatment from you. But, be that as it will, the guesses in which youoblige me to employ myself are too painful. It is a sort of sportingwith my feelings, which, as a man of resolution, I am determined tobring to an end. I expect you therefore to lay aside all mystery andequivocation, and inform me explicitly what it is upon which yourallusions are built. What is it you know? What is it you want? I havebeen too much exposed already to unparalleled mortification andhardship, and my wounds will not bear this perpetual tampering. "

"I feel, sir, " answered I, "how wrong I have been, and am ashamed thatsuch a one as I should have given you all this trouble and displeasure. I felt it at the time; but I have been hurried along, I do not know how. I have always tried to stop myself, but the demon that possessed me wastoo strong for me. I know nothing, sir, but what Mr. Collins told me. Hetold me the story of Mr. Tyrrel and Miss Melville and Hawkins. I amsure, sir, he said nothing but what was to your honour, and proved youto be more an angel than a man. "

"Well, sir: I found a letter written by that Hawkins the other day; didnot that letter fall into your hands? Did not you read it?"

"For God's sake, sir, turn me out of your house. Punish me in some wayor other, that I may forgive myself. I am a foolish, wicked, despicablewretch. I confess, sir, I did read the letter. "

"And how dared you read it? It was indeed very wrong of you. But we willtalk of that by and by. Well, and what did you say to the letter? Youknow it seems, that Hawkins was hanged. "

"I say, sir? why it went to my heart to read it. I say, as I said theday before yesterday, that when I see a man of so much principleafterwards deliberately proceeding to the very worst of crimes, I canscarcely bear to think of it. "

"That is what you say? It seems too you know--accursedremembrance!--that I was accused of this crime?"

I was silent. 

"Well, sir. You know too, perhaps, that from the hour the crime wascommitted--yes, sir, that was the date [and as he said this, there wassomewhat frightful, I had almost said diabolical, in his countenance]--Ihave not had an hour's peace; I became changed from the happiest to themost miserable thing that lives; sleep has fled from my eyes; joy hasbeen a stranger to my thoughts; and annihilation I should prefer athousand times to the being that I am. As soon as I was capable of achoice, I chose honour and the esteem of mankind as a good I preferredto all others. You know, it seems, in how many ways my ambition has beendisappointed, --I do not thank Collins for having been the historian ofmy disgrace, --would to God that night could be blotted from the memoryof man!--But the scene of that night, instead of perishing, has been asource of ever new calamity to me, which must flow for ever! Am I then, thus miserable and ruined, a proper subject upon which for you toexercise your ingenuity, and improve your power of tormenting? Was itnot enough that I was publicly dishonoured? that I was deprived, by thepestilential influence of some demon, of the opportunity of avenging mydishonour? No: in addition to this, I have been charged with having inthis critical moment intercepted my own vengeance by the foulest ofcrimes. That trial is past. Misery itself has nothing worse in store forme, except what you have inflicted: the seeming to doubt of myinnocence, which, after the fullest and most solemn examination, hasbeen completely established. You have forced me to this explanation. Youhave extorted from me a confidence which I had no inclination to make. But it is a part of the misery of my situation, that I am at the mercyof every creature, however little, who feels himself inclined to sportwith my distress. Be content. You have brought me low enough. "

"Oh, sir, I am not content; I cannot be content! I cannot bear to thinkwhat I have done. I shall never again be able to look in the face of thebest of masters and the best of men. I beg of you, sir, to turn me outof your service. Let me go and hide myself where I may never see youmore. "

Mr. Falkland's countenance had indicated great severity through thewhole of this conversation; but now it became more harsh and tempestuousthan ever. "How now, rascal!" cried he. "You want to leave me, do you?Who told you that I wished to part with you? But you cannot bear to livewith such a miserable wretch as I am! You are not disposed to put upwith the caprices of a man so dissatisfied and unjust!"

"Oh, sir! do not talk to me thus! Do with me any thing you will. Kill meif you please. "

"Kill you!" [Volumes could not describe the emotions with which thisecho of my words was given and received. ]

"Sir, I could die to serve you! I love you more than I can express. Iworship you as a being of a superior nature. I am foolish, raw, inexperienced, --worse than any of these;--but never did a thought ofdisloyalty to your service enter into my heart. "

Here our conversation ended; and the impression it made upon my youthfulmind it is impossible to describe. I thought with astonishment, evenwith rapture, of the attention and kindness towards me I discovered inMr. Falkland, through all the roughness of his manner. I could neverenough wonder at finding myself, humble as I was by my birth, obscure asI had hitherto been, thus suddenly become of so much importance to thehappiness of one of the most enlightened and accomplished men inEngland. But this consciousness attached me to my patron more eagerlythan ever, and made me swear a thousand times, as I meditated upon mysituation, that I would never prove unworthy of so generous a protector. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Is it not unaccountable that, in the midst of all my increasedveneration for my patron, the first tumult of my emotion was scarcelysubsided, before the old question that had excited my conjecturesrecurred to my mind, Was he the murderer? It was a kind of fatalimpulse, that seemed destined to hurry me to my destruction. I did notwonder at the disturbance that was given to Mr. Falkland by anyallusion, however distant, to this fatal affair. That was as completelyaccounted for from the consideration of his excessive sensibility inmatters of honour, as it would have been upon the supposition of themost atrocious guilt. Knowing, as he did, that such a charge had oncebeen connected with his name, he would of course be perpetually uneasy, and suspect some latent insinuation at every possible opportunity. Hewould doubt and fear, lest every man with whom he conversed harbouredthe foulest suspicion against him. In my case he found that I was inpossession of some information, more than he was aware of, without itsbeing possible for him to decide to what it amounted, whether I hadheard a just or unjust, a candid or calumniatory tale. He had alsoreason to suppose that I gave entertainment to thoughts derogatory tohis honour, and that I did not form that favourable judgment, which theexquisite refinement of his ruling passion made indispensable to hispeace. All these considerations would of course maintain in him a stateof perpetual uneasiness. But, though I could find nothing that I couldconsider as justifying me in persisting in the shadow of a doubt, yet, as I have said, the uncertainty and restlessness of my contemplationswould by no means depart from me. 

The fluctuating state of my mind produced a contention of oppositeprinciples, that by turns usurped dominion over my conduct. Sometimes Iwas influenced by the most complete veneration for my master; I placedan unreserved confidence in his integrity and his virtue, and implicitlysurrendered my understanding for him to set it to what point he pleased. At other times the confidence, which had before flowed with the mostplenteous tide, began to ebb; I was, as I had already been, watchful, inquisitive, suspicious, full of a thousand conjectures as to themeaning of the most indifferent actions. Mr. Falkland, who was mostpainfully alive to every thing that related to his honour, saw thesevariations, and betrayed his consciousness of them now in one manner, and now in another, frequently before I was myself aware, sometimesalmost before they existed. The situation of both was distressing; wewere each of us a plague to the other; and I often wondered, that theforbearance and benignity of my master was not at length exhausted, andthat he did not determine to thrust from him for ever so incessant anobserver. There was indeed one eminent difference between his share inthe transaction and mine. I had some consolation in the midst of myrestlessness. Curiosity is a principle that carries its pleasures, aswell as its pains, along with it. The mind is urged by a perpetualstimulus; it seems as if it were continually approaching to the end ofits race; and as the insatiable desire of satisfaction is its principleof conduct, so it promises itself in that satisfaction an unknowngratification, which seems as if it were capable of fully compensatingany injuries that may be suffered in the career. But to Mr. Falklandthere was no consolation. What he endured in the intercourse between usappeared to be gratuitous evil. He had only to wish that there was nosuch person as myself in the world, and to curse the hour when hishumanity led him to rescue me from my obscurity, and place me in hisservice. 

A consequence produced upon me by the extraordinary nature of mysituation it is necessary to mention. The constant state of vigilanceand suspicion in which my mind was retained, worked a very rapid changein my character. It seemed to have all the effect that might have beenexpected from years of observation and experience. The strictness withwhich I endeavoured to remark what passed in the mind of one man, andthe variety of conjectures into which I was led, appeared, as it were, to render me a competent adept in the different modes in which thehuman intellect displays its secret workings. I no longer said tomyself, as I had done in the beginning, "I will ask Mr. Falkland whetherhe were the murderer. " On the contrary, after having carefully examinedthe different kinds of evidence of which the subject was susceptible, and recollecting all that had already passed upon the subject, it wasnot without considerable pain, that I felt myself unable to discover anyway in which I could be perfectly and unalterably satisfied of mypatron's innocence. As to his guilt, I could scarcely bring myself todoubt that in some way or other, sooner or later, I should arrive at theknowledge of that, if it really existed. But I could not endure tothink, almost for a moment, of that side of the alternative as true; andwith all my ungovernable suspicion arising from the mysteriousness ofthe circumstances, and all the delight which a young and unfledged mindreceives from ideas that give scope to all that imagination can pictureof terrible or sublime, I could not yet bring myself to consider Mr. Falkland's guilt as a supposition attended with the remotestprobability. 

I hope the reader will forgive me for dwelling thus long on preliminarycircumstances. I shall come soon enough to the story of my own misery. Ihave already said, that one of the motives which induced me to thepenning of this narrative, was to console myself in my insupportabledistress. I derive a melancholy pleasure from dwelling upon thecircumstances which imperceptibly paved the way to my ruin. While Irecollect or describe past scenes, which occurred in a more favourableperiod of my life, my attention is called off for a short interval, fromthe hopeless misfortune in which I am at present involved. The man mustindeed possess an uncommon portion of hardness of heart, who can envyme so slight a relief. --To proceed. 

For some time after the explanation which had thus taken place betweenme and Mr. Falkland, his melancholy, instead of being in the slightestdegree diminished by the lenient hand of time, went on perpetually toincrease. His fits of insanity--for such I must denominate them for wantof a distinct appellation, though it is possible they might not fallunder the definition that either the faculty or the court of chanceryappropriate to the term--became stronger and more durable than ever. Itwas no longer practicable wholly to conceal them from the family, andeven from the neighbourhood. He would sometimes, without any previousnotice, absent himself from his house for two or three days, unaccompanied by servant or attendant. This was the more extraordinary, as it was well known that he paid no visits, nor kept up any sort ofintercourse with the gentlemen of the vicinity. But it was impossiblethat a man of Mr. Falkland's distinction and fortune should longcontinue in such a practice, without its being discovered what wasbecome of him; though a considerable part of our county was among thewildest and most desolate districts that are to be found in SouthBritain. Mr. Falkland was sometimes seen climbing among the rocks, reclining motionless for hours together upon the edge of a precipice, orlulled into a kind of nameless lethargy of despair by the dashing of thetorrents. He would remain for whole nights together under the naked copeof heaven, inattentive to the consideration either of place or time;insensible to the variations of the weather, or rather seeming to bedelighted with that uproar of the elements, which partially called offhis attention from the discord and dejection that occupied his own mind. 

At first, when we received intelligence at any time of the place towhich Mr. Falkland had withdrawn himself, some person of his household, Mr. Collins or myself, but most generally myself, as I was always athome, and always, in the received sense of the word, at leisure, went tohim to persuade him to return. But, after a few experiments, we thoughtit advisable to desist, and leave him to prolong his absence, or toterminate it, as might happen to suit his own inclination. Mr. Collins, whose grey hairs and long services seemed to give him a sort of right tobe importunate, sometimes succeeded; though even in that case there wasnothing that could sit more uneasily upon Mr. Falkland than thisinsinuation as if he wanted a guardian to take care of him, or as if hewere in, or in danger of falling into, a state in which he would beincapable of deliberately controlling his own words and actions. At onetime he would suddenly yield to his humble, venerable friend, murmuringgrievously at the constraint that was put upon him, but without spiritenough even to complain of it with energy. At another time, even thoughcomplying, he would suddenly burst out in a paroxysm of resentment. Uponthese occasions there was something inconceivably, savagely terrible inhis anger, that gave to the person against whom it was directed the mosthumiliating and insupportable sensations. Me he always treated, at thesetimes, with fierceness, and drove me from him with a vehemence lofty, emphatical, and sustained, beyond any thing of which I should havethought human nature to be capable. These sallies seemed always toconstitute a sort of crisis in his indisposition; and, whenever he wasinduced to such a premature return, he would fall immediately after intoa state of the most melancholy inactivity, in which he usually continuedfor two or three days. It was by an obstinate fatality that, whenever Isaw Mr. Falkland in these deplorable situations, and particularly when Ilighted upon him after having sought him among the rocks and precipices, pale, emaciated, solitary, and haggard, the suggestion would continuallyrecur to me, in spite of inclination, in spite of persuasion, and inspite of evidence, Surely this man is a murderer!

CHAPTER V. 

It was in one of the lucid intervals, as I may term them, that occurredduring this period, that a peasant was brought before him, in hischaracter of a justice of peace, upon an accusation of having murderedhis fellow. As Mr. Falkland had by this time acquired the repute of amelancholy valetudinarian, it is probable he would not have been calledupon to act in his official character upon the present occasion, had itnot been that two or three of the neighbouring justices were all of themfrom home at once, so that he was the only one to be found in a circuitof many miles. The reader however must not imagine, though I haveemployed the word insanity in describing Mr. Falkland's symptoms, thathe was by any means reckoned for a madman by the generality of those whohad occasion to observe him. It is true that his behaviour, at certaintimes, was singular and unaccountable; but then, at other times, therewas in it so much dignity, regularity, and economy; he knew so well howto command and make himself respected; his actions and carriage were socondescending, considerate, and benevolent, that, far from havingforfeited the esteem of the unfortunate or the many, they were loud andearnest in his praises. 

I was present at the examination of this peasant. The moment I heard ofthe errand which had brought this rabble of visitors, a sudden thoughtstruck me. I conceived the possibility of rendering the incidentsubordinate to the great enquiry which drank up all the currents of mysoul. I said, this man is arraigned of murder, and murder is themaster-key that wakes distemper in the mind of Mr. Falkland. I willwatch him without remission. I will trace all the mazes of his thought. Surely at such a time his secret anguish must betray itself. Surely, ifit be not my own fault, I shall now be able to discover the state of hisplea before the tribunal of unerring justice. 

I took my station in a manner most favourable to the object upon whichmy mind was intent. I could perceive in Mr. Falkland's features, as heentered, a strong reluctance to the business in which he was engaged;but there was no possibility of retreating. His countenance wasembarrassed and anxious; he scarcely saw any body. The examination hadnot proceeded far, before he chanced to turn his eye to the part of theroom where I was. It happened in this as in some preceding instances--weexchanged a silent look, by which we told volumes to each other. Mr. Falkland's complexion turned from red to pale, and from pale to red. Iperfectly understood his feelings, and would willingly have withdrawnmyself. But it was impossible; my passions were too deeply engaged; Iwas rooted to the spot; though my own life, that of my master, or almostof a whole nation had been at stake, I had no power to change myposition. 

The first surprise however having subsided, Mr. Falkland assumed a lookof determined constancy, and even seemed to increase in self-possessionmuch beyond what could have been expected from his first entrance. Thishe could probably have maintained, had it not been that the scene, instead of being permanent, was in some sort perpetually changing. Theman who was brought before him was vehemently accused by the brother ofthe deceased as having acted from the most rooted malice. He swore thatthere had been an old grudge between the parties, and related severalinstances of it. He affirmed that the murderer had sought the earliestopportunity of wreaking his revenge; had struck the first blow; and, though the contest was in appearance only a common boxing match, hadwatched the occasion of giving a fatal stroke, which was followed by theinstant death of his antagonist. 

While the accuser was giving in his evidence, the accused discoveredevery token of the most poignant sensibility. At one time his featureswere convulsed with anguish; tears unbidden trickled down his manlycheeks; and at another he started with apparent astonishment at theunfavourable turn that was given to the narrative, though withoutbetraying any impatience to interrupt. I never saw a man less ferociousin his appearance. He was tall, well made, and comely. His countenancewas ingenuous and benevolent, without folly. By his side stood a youngwoman, his sweetheart, extremely agreeable in her person, and her lookstestifying how deeply she interested herself in the fate of her lover. The accidental spectators were divided, between indignation against theenormity of the supposed criminal, and compassion for the poor girl thataccompanied him. They seemed to take little notice of the favourableappearances visible in the person of the accused, till, in the sequel, those appearances were more forcibly suggested to their attention. ForMr. Falkland, he was at one moment engrossed by curiosity andearnestness to investigate the tale, while at another he betrayed a sortof revulsion of sentiment, which made the investigation too painful forhim to support. 

When the accused was called upon for his defence, he readily owned themisunderstanding that had existed, and that the deceased was the worstenemy he had in the world. Indeed he was his only enemy, and he couldnot tell the reason that had made him so. He had employed every effortto overcome his animosity, but in vain. The deceased had upon alloccasions sought to mortify him, and do him an ill turn; but he hadresolved never to be engaged in a broil with him, and till this day hehad succeeded. If he had met with a misfortune with any other man, people at least might have thought it accident; but now it would alwaysbe believed that he had acted from secret malice and a bad heart. 

The fact was, that he and his sweetheart had gone to a neighbouringfair, where this man had met them. The man had often tried to affronthim; and his passiveness, interpreted into cowardice, had perhapsencouraged the other to additional rudeness. Finding that he had enduredtrivial insults to himself with an even temper, the deceased now thoughtproper to turn his brutality upon the young woman that accompanied him. He pursued them; he endeavoured in various manners to harass and vexthem; they had sought in vain to shake him off. The young woman wasconsiderably terrified. The accused expostulated with their persecutor, and asked him how he could be so barbarous as to persist in frighteninga woman? He replied with an insulting tone, "Then the woman should findsome one able to protect her; people that encouraged and trusted to sucha thief as that, deserved no better!" The accused tried every expedienthe could invent; at length he could endure it no longer; he becameexasperated, and challenged the assailant. The challenge was accepted; aring was formed; he confided the care of his sweetheart to a bystander;and unfortunately the first blow he struck proved fatal. 

The accused added, that he did not care what became of him. He had beenanxious to go through the world in an inoffensive manner, and now he hadthe guilt of blood upon him. He did not know but it would be kindness inthem to hang him out of the way; for his conscience would reproach himas long as he lived, and the figure of the deceased, as he had lainsenseless and without motion at his feet, would perpetually haunt him. The thought of this man, at one moment full of life and vigour, and thenext lifted a helpless corpse from the ground, and all owing to him, wasa thought too dreadful to be endured. He had loved the poor maiden, whohad been the innocent occasion of this, with all his heart; but fromthis time he should never support the sight of her. The sight wouldbring a tribe of fiends in its rear. One unlucky minute had poisoned allhis hopes, and made life a burden to him. Saying this, his countenancefell, the muscles of his face trembled with agony, and he looked thestatue of despair. 

This was the story of which Mr. Falkland was called upon to be theauditor. Though the incidents were, for the most part, wide of thosewhich belonged to the adventures of the preceding volume, and there hadbeen much less policy and skill displayed on either part in this rusticencounter, yet there were many points which, to a man who bore theformer strongly in his recollection, suggested a sufficient resemblance. In each case it was a human brute persisting in a course of hostility toa man of benevolent character, and suddenly and terribly cut off in themidst of his career. These points perpetually smote upon the heart ofMr. Falkland. He at one time started with astonishment, and at anothershifted his posture, like a man who is unable longer to endure thesensations that press upon him. Then he new strung his nerves tostubborn patience. I could see, while his muscles preserved aninflexible steadiness, tears of anguish roll down his cheeks. He darednot trust his eyes to glance towards the side of the room where I stood;and this gave an air of embarrassment to his whole figure. But when theaccused came to speak of his feelings, to describe the depth of hiscompunction for an involuntary fault, he could endure it no longer. Hesuddenly rose, and with every mark of horror and despair rushed out ofthe room. 

This circumstance made no material difference in the affair of theaccused. The parties were detained about half an hour. Mr. Falkland hadalready heard the material parts of the evidence in person. At theexpiration of that interval, he sent for Mr. Collins out of the room. The story of the culprit was confirmed by many witnesses who had seenthe transaction. Word was brought that my master was indisposed; and, atthe same time, the accused was ordered to be discharged. The vengeanceof the brother however, as I afterwards found, did not rest here, and hemet with a magistrate, more scrupulous or more despotic, by whom theculprit was committed for trial. 

This affair was no sooner concluded, than I hastened into the garden, and plunged into the deepest of its thickets. My mind was full, almostto bursting. I no sooner conceived myself sufficiently removed from allobservation, than my thoughts forced their way spontaneously to mytongue, and I exclaimed, in a fit of uncontrollable enthusiasm, "This isthe murderer; the Hawkinses were innocent! I am sure of it! I willpledge my life for it! It is out! It is discovered! Guilty, upon mysoul!"

While I thus proceeded with hasty steps along the most secret paths ofthe garden, and from time to time gave vent to the tumult of my thoughtsin involuntary exclamations, I felt as if my animal system had undergonea total revolution. My blood boiled within me. I was conscious to a kindof rapture for which I could not account. I was solemn, yet full ofrapid emotion, burning with indignation and energy. In the very tempestand hurricane of the passions, I seemed to enjoy the most soul-ravishingcalm. I cannot better express the then state of my mind than by saying, I was never so perfectly alive as at that moment. 

This state of mental elevation continued for several hours, but atlength subsided, and gave place to more deliberate reflection. One ofthe first questions that then occurred was, what shall I do with theknowledge I have been so eager to acquire? I had no inclination to turninformer. I felt what I had had no previous conception of, that it waspossible to love a murderer, and, as I then understood it, the worst ofmurderers. I conceived it to be in the highest degree absurd andiniquitous, to cut off a man qualified for the most essential andextensive utility, merely out of retrospect to an act which, whateverwere its merits, could not be retrieved. 

This thought led me to another, which had at first passed unnoticed. IfI had been disposed to turn informer, what had occurred amounted to noevidence that was admissible in a court of justice. Well then, added I, if it be such as would not be admitted at a criminal tribunal, am I sureit is such as I ought to admit? There were twenty persons besides myselfpresent at the scene from which I pretend to derive such entireconviction. Not one of them saw it in the light that I did. It eitherappeared to them a casual and unimportant circumstance, or they thoughtit sufficiently accounted for by Mr. Falkland's infirmity andmisfortunes. Did it really contain such an extent of arguments andapplication, that nobody but I was discerning enough to see?

But all this reasoning produced no alteration in my way of thinking. Forthis time I could not get it out of my mind for a moment: "Mr. Falklandis the murderer! He is guilty! I see it! I feel it! I am sure of it!"Thus was I hurried along by an uncontrollable destiny. The state of mypassions in their progressive career, the inquisitiveness and impatienceof my thoughts, appeared to make this determination unavoidable. 

An incident occurred while I was in the garden, that seemed to make noimpression upon me at the time, but which I recollected when my thoughtswere got into somewhat of a slower motion. In the midst of one of myparoxysms of exclamation, and when I thought myself most alone, theshadow of a man as avoiding me passed transiently by me at a smalldistance. Though I had scarcely caught a faint glimpse of his person, there was something in the occurrence that persuaded me it was Mr. Falkland. I shuddered at the possibility of his having overheard thewords of my soliloquy. But this idea, alarming as it was, had not powerimmediately to suspend the career of my reflections. Subsequentcircumstances however brought back the apprehension to my mind. I hadscarcely a doubt of its reality, when dinner-time came, and Mr. Falklandwas not to be found. Supper and bed-time passed in the same manner. Theonly conclusion made by his servants upon this circumstance was, that hewas gone upon one of his accustomed melancholy rambles. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The period at which my story is now arrived seemed as if it were thevery crisis of the fortune of Mr. Falkland. Incident followed uponincident, in a kind of breathless succession. About nine o'clock thenext morning an alarm was given, that one of the chimneys of the housewas on fire. No accident could be apparently more trivial; but presentlyit blazed with such fury, as to make it clear that some beam of thehouse, which in the first building had been improperly placed, had beenreached by the flames. Some danger was apprehended for the wholeedifice. The confusion was the greater, in consequence of the absence ofthe master, as well as of Mr. Collins, the steward. While some of thedomestics were employed in endeavouring to extinguish the flames, it wasthought proper that others should busy themselves in removing the mostvaluable moveables to a lawn in the garden. I took some command in theaffair, to which indeed my station in the family seemed to entitle me, and for which I was judged qualified by my understanding and mentalresources. 

Having given some general directions, I conceived, that it was notenough to stand by and superintend, but that I should contribute mypersonal labour in the public concern. I set out for that purpose; andmy steps, by some mysterious fatality, were directed to the privateapartment at the end of the library. Here, as I looked round, my eye wassuddenly caught by the trunk mentioned in the first pages of mynarrative. 

My mind was already raised to its utmost pitch. In a window-seat of theroom lay a number of chisels and other carpenter's tools. I know notwhat infatuation instantaneously seized me. The idea was too powerful tobe resisted. I forgot the business upon which I came, the employment ofthe servants, and the urgency of general danger. I should have done thesame if the flames that seemed to extend as they proceeded, and alreadysurmounted the house, had reached this very apartment. I snatched a toolsuitable for the purpose, threw myself upon the ground, and applied witheagerness to a magazine which inclosed all for which my heart panted. After two or three efforts, in which the energy of uncontrollablepassion was added to my bodily strength, the fastenings gave way, thetrunk opened, and all that I sought was at once within my reach. 

I was in the act of lifting up the lid, when Mr. Falkland entered, wild, breathless, distracted in his looks! He had been brought home from aconsiderable distance by the sight of the flames. At the moment of hisappearance the lid dropped down from my hand. He no sooner saw me thanhis eyes emitted sparks of rage. He ran with eagerness to a brace ofloaded pistols which hung in the room, and, seizing one, presented it tomy head. I saw his design, and sprang to avoid it; but, with the samerapidity with which he had formed his resolution, he changed it, andinstantly went to the window, and flung the pistol into the court below. He bade me begone with his usual irresistible energy; and, overcome asI was already by the horror of the detection, I eagerly complied. 

A moment after, a considerable part of the chimney tumbled with noiseinto the court below, and a voice exclaimed that the fire was moreviolent than ever. These circumstances seemed to produce a mechanicaleffect upon my patron, who, having first locked the closet, appeared onthe outside of the house, ascended the roof, and was in a moment inevery place where his presence was required. The flames were at lengthextinguished. 

The reader can with difficulty form a conception of the state to which Iwas now reduced. My act was in some sort an act of insanity; but howundescribable are the feelings with which I looked back upon it! It wasan instantaneous impulse, a short-lived and passing alienation of mind;but what must Mr. Falkland think of that alienation? To any man a personwho had once shown himself capable of so wild a flight of the mind, mustappear dangerous: how must he appear to a man under Mr. Falkland'scircumstances? I had just had a pistol held to my head, by a manresolved to put a period to my existence. That indeed was past; but whatwas it that fate had yet in reserve for me! The insatiable vengeance ofa Falkland, of a man whose hands were, to my apprehension, red withblood, and his thoughts familiar with cruelty and murder. How great werethe resources of his mind, resources henceforth to be confederated formy destruction! This was the termination of an ungoverned curiosity, animpulse that I had represented to myself as so innocent or so venial. 

In the high tide of boiling passion I had overlooked all consequences. It now appeared to me like a dream. Is it in man to leap from thehigh-raised precipice, or rush unconcerned into the midst of flames? Wasit possible I could have forgotten for a moment the awe-creating mannersof Falkland, and the inexorable fury I should awake in his soul? Nothought of future security had reached my mind. I had acted upon noplan. I had conceived no means of concealing my deed, after it had oncebeen effected. But it was over now. One short minute had effected areverse in my situation, the suddenness of which the history of man, perhaps is unable to surpass. 

I have always been at a loss to account for my having plunged thusheadlong into an act so monstrous. There is something in it ofunexplained and involuntary sympathy. One sentiment flows, by necessityof nature, into another sentiment of the same general character. Thiswas the first instance in which I had witnessed a danger by fire. Allwas confusion around me, and all changed into hurricane within. Thegeneral situation, to my unpractised apprehension, appeared desperate, and I by contagion became alike desperate. At first I had been in somedegree calm and collected, but that too was a desperate effort; and whenit gave way, a kind of instant insanity became its successor. 

I had now every thing to fear. And yet what was my fault? It proceededfrom none of those errors which are justly held up to the aversion ofmankind; my object had been neither wealth, nor the means of indulgence, nor the usurpation of power. No spark of malignity had harboured in mysoul. I had always reverenced the sublime mind of Mr. Falkland; Ireverenced it still. My offence had merely been a mistaken thirst ofknowledge. Such however it was, as to admit neither of forgiveness norremission. This epoch was the crisis of my fate, dividing what may becalled the offensive part from the defensive, which has been the solebusiness of my remaining years. Alas! my offence was short, notaggravated by any sinister intention: but the reprisals I was to sufferare long, and can terminate only with my life!

In the state in which I found myself, when the recollection of what Ihad done flowed back upon my mind, I was incapable of any resolution. All was chaos and uncertainty within me. My thoughts were too full ofhorror to be susceptible of activity. I felt deserted of my intellectualpowers, palsied in mind, and compelled to sit in speechless expectationof the misery to which I was destined. To my own conception I was like aman, who, though blasted with lightning, and deprived for ever of thepower of motion, should yet retain the consciousness of his situation. Death-dealing despair was the only idea of which I was sensible. 

I was still in this situation of mind when Mr. Falkland sent for me. Hismessage roused me from my trance. In recovering, I felt those sickeningand loathsome sensations, which a man may be supposed at first to endurewho should return from the sleep of death. Gradually I recovered thepower of arranging my ideas and directing my steps. I understood, thatthe minute the affair of the fire was over Mr. Falkland had retired tohis own room. It was evening before he ordered me to be called. 

I found in him every token of extreme distress, except that there was anair of solemn and sad composure that crowned the whole. For the present, all appearance of gloom, stateliness, and austerity was gone. As Ientered he looked up, and, seeing who it was, ordered me to bolt thedoor. I obeyed. He went round the room, and examined its other avenues. He then returned to where I stood. I trembled in every joint of myframe. I exclaimed within myself, "What scene of death has Roscius nowto act?"

"Williams!" said he, in a tone which had more in it of sorrow thanresentment, "I have attempted your life! I am a wretch devoted to thescorn and execration of mankind!" There he stopped. 

"If there be one being on the whole earth that feels the scorn andexecration due to such a wretch more strongly than another, it ismyself. I have been kept in a state of perpetual torture and madness. But I can put an end to it and its consequences; and, so far at least asrelates to you, I am determined to do it. I know the price, and--I willmake the purchase. 

"You must swear, " said he. "You must attest every sacrament, divine andhuman, never to disclose what I am now to tell you. "--He dictated theoath, and I repeated it with an aching heart. I had no power to offer aword of remark. 

"This confidence, " said he, "is of your seeking, not of mine. It isodious to me, and is dangerous to you. "

Having thus prefaced the disclosure he had to make, he paused. He seemedto collect himself as for an effort of magnitude. He wiped his face withhis handkerchief. The moisture that incommoded him appeared not to betears, but sweat. 

"Look at me. Observe me. Is it not strange that such a one as I shouldretain lineaments of a human creature? I am the blackest of villains. Iam the murderer of Tyrrel. I am the assassin of the Hawkinses. "

I started with terror, and was silent. 

"What a story is mine! Insulted, disgraced, polluted in the face ofhundreds, I was capable of any act of desperation. I watched myopportunity, followed Mr. Tyrrel from the rooms, seized a sharp-pointedknife that fell in my way, came behind him, and stabbed him to theheart. My gigantic oppressor rolled at my feet. 

"All are but links of one chain. A blow! A murder! My next business wasto defend myself, to tell so well-digested a lie as that all mankindshould believe it true. Never was a task so harrowing and intolerable!

"Well, thus far fortune favoured me; she favoured me beyond my desire. The guilt was removed from me, and cast upon another; but this I was toendure. Whence came the circumstantial evidence against him, the brokenknife and the blood, I am unable to tell. I suppose, by some miraculousaccident, Hawkins was passing by, and endeavoured to assist hisoppressor in the agonies of death. You have heard his story; you haveread one of his letters. But you do not know the thousandth part of theproofs of his simple and unalterable rectitude that I have known. Hisson suffered with him; that son, for the sake of whose happiness andvirtue he ruined himself, and would have died a hundred times. --I havehad feelings, but I cannot describe them. 

"This it is to be a gentleman! a man of honour! I was the fool of fame. My virtue, my honesty, my everlasting peace of mind, were cheapsacrifices to be made at the shrine of this divinity. But, what isworse, there is nothing that has happened that has in any degreecontributed to my cure. I am as much the fool of fame as ever. I clingto it to my last breath. Though I be the blackest of villains, I willleave behind me a spotless and illustrious name. There is no crime somalignant, no scene of blood so horrible, in which that object cannotengage me. It is no matter that I regard these things at a distance withaversion;--I am sure of it; bring me to the test, and I shall yield. Idespise myself, but thus I am; things are gone too far to be recalled. 

"Why is it that I am compelled to this confidence? From the love offame. I should tremble at the sight of every pistol or instrument ofdeath that offered itself to my hands; and perhaps my next murder maynot be so fortunate as those I have already committed. I had noalternative but to make you my confidant or my victim. It was better totrust you with the whole truth under every seal of secrecy, than to livein perpetual fear of your penetration or your rashness. 

"Do you know what it is you have done? To gratify a foolishlyinquisitive humour, you have sold yourself. You shall continue in myservice, but can never share my affection. I will benefit you in respectof fortune, but I shall always hate you. If ever an unguarded wordescape from your lips, if ever you excite my jealousy or suspicion, expect to pay for it by your death or worse. It is a dear bargain youhave made. But it is too late to look back. I charge and adjure you byevery thing that is sacred, and that is tremendous, preserve your faith!

"My tongue has now for the first time for several years spoken thelanguage of my heart; and the intercourse from this hour shall be shutfor ever. I want no pity. I desire no consolation. Surrounded as I amwith horrors, I will at least preserve my fortitude to the last. If Ihad been reserved to a different destiny, I have qualities in thatrespect worthy of a better cause. I can be mad, miserable, and frantic;but even in frenzy I can preserve my presence of mind and discretion. "

Such was the story I had been so desirous to know. Though my mind hadbrooded upon the subject for months, there was not a syllable of it thatdid not come to my ear with the most perfect sense of novelty. "Mr. Falkland is a murderer!" said I, as I retired from the conference. Thisdreadful appellative, "a murderer, " made my very blood run cold withinme. "He killed Mr. Tyrrel, for he could not control his resentment andanger: he sacrificed Hawkins the elder and Hawkins the younger, becausehe could upon no terms endure the public loss of honour: how can Iexpect that a man thus passionate and unrelenting will not sooner orlater make me his victim?"

But, notwithstanding this terrible application of the story, anapplication to which perhaps in some form or other, mankind are indebtedfor nine tenths of their abhorrence against vice, I could not helpoccasionally recurring to reflections of an opposite nature. "Mr. Falkland is a murderer!" resumed I. "He might yet be a most excellentman, if he did but think so. " It is the thinking ourselves vicious then, that principally contributes to make us vicious. 

Amidst the shock I received from finding, what I had never sufferedmyself constantly to believe, that my suspicions were true, I stilldiscovered new cause of admiration for my master. His menaces indeedwere terrible. But, when I recollected the offence I had given, socontrary to every received principle of civilised society, so insolentand rude, so intolerable to a man of Mr. Falkland's elevation, and inMr. Falkland's peculiarity of circumstances, I was astonished at hisforbearance. There were indeed sufficiently obvious reasons why he mightnot choose to proceed to extremities with me. But how different from thefearful expectations I had conceived were the calmness of hisbehaviour, and the regulated mildness of his language! In this respect, I for a short time imagined that I was emancipated from the mischiefswhich had appalled me; and that, in having to do with a man of Mr. Falkland's liberality, I had nothing rigorous to apprehend. 

"It is a miserable prospect, " said I, "that he holds up to me. Heimagines that I am restrained by no principles, and deaf to the claimsof personal excellence. But he shall find himself mistaken. I will neverbecome an informer. I will never injure my patron; and therefore he willnot be my enemy. With all his misfortunes and all his errors, I feelthat my soul yearns for his welfare. If he have been criminal, that isowing to circumstances; the same qualities under other circumstanceswould have been, or rather were, sublimely beneficent. "

My reasonings were, no doubt, infinitely more favourable to Mr. Falkland, than those which human beings are accustomed to make in thecase of such as they style great criminals. This will not be wonderedat, when it is considered that I had myself just been trampling on theestablished boundaries of obligation, and therefore might well have afellow-feeling for other offenders. Add to which, I had known Mr. Falkland from the first as a beneficent divinity. I had observed atleisure, and with a minuteness which could not deceive me, the excellentqualities of his heart; and I found him possessed of a mind beyondcomparison the most fertile and accomplished I had ever known. 

But though the terrors which had impressed me were considerablyalleviated, my situation was notwithstanding sufficiently miserable. Theease and light-heartedness of my youth were for ever gone. The voice ofan irresistible necessity had commanded me to "sleep no more. " I wastormented with a secret, of which I must never disburthen myself; andthis consciousness was, at my age, a source of perpetual melancholy. Ihad made myself a prisoner, in the most intolerable sense of that term, for years--perhaps for the rest of my life. Though my prudence anddiscretion should be invariable, I must remember that I should have anoverseer, vigilant from conscious guilt, full of resentment at theunjustifiable means by which I had extorted from him a confession, andwhose lightest caprice might at any time decide upon every thing thatwas dear to me. The vigilance even of a public and systematicaldespotism is poor, compared with a vigilance which is thus goaded by themost anxious passions of the soul. Against this species of persecution Iknew not how to invent a refuge. I dared neither fly from theobservation of Mr. Falkland, nor continue exposed to its operation. Iwas at first indeed lulled in a certain degree to security upon theverge of the precipice. But it was not long before I found a thousandcircumstances perpetually reminding me of my true situation. Those I amnow to relate are among the most memorable. 

CHAPTER VII. 

In no long time after the disclosure Mr. Falkland had made, Mr. Forester, his elder brother by the mother's side, came to reside for ashort period in our family. This was a circumstance peculiarly adverseto my patron's habits and inclinations. He had broken off, as I havealready said, all intercourse of visiting with his neighbours. Hedebarred himself every kind of amusement and relaxation. He shrunk fromthe society of his fellows, and thought he could never be sufficientlyburied in obscurity and solitude. This principle was, in most cases, ofno difficult execution to a man of firmness. But Mr. Falkland knew nothow to avoid the visit of Mr. Forester. This gentleman was just returnedfrom a residence of several years upon the continent; and his demand ofan apartment in the house of his half-brother, till his own house at thedistance of thirty miles should be prepared for his reception, was madewith an air of confidence that scarcely admitted of a refusal. Mr. Falkland could only allege, that the state of his health and spirits wassuch, that lie feared a residence at his house would be little agreeableto his kinsman; and Mr. Forester conceived that this was adisqualification which would always augment in proportion as it wastolerated, and hoped that his society, by inducing Mr. Falkland tosuspend his habits of seclusion, would be the means of essentialbenefit. Mr. Falkland opposed him no further. He would have been sorryto be thought unkind to a kinsman for whom he had a particular esteem;and the consciousness of not daring to assign the true reason, made himcautious of adhering to his objection. 

The character of Mr. Forester was, in many respects, the reverse of thatof my master. His very appearance indicated the singularity of hisdisposition. His figure was short and angular. His eyes were sunk farinto his head, and were overhung with eye-brows, black, thick, andbushy. His complexion was swarthy, and his lineaments hard. He had seenmuch of the world; but, to judge of him from his appearance and manners, one would have thought that he had never moved from his fire-side. 

His temper was acid, petulant, and harsh. He was easily offended bytrifles, respecting which, previously to the offence, the persons withwhom he had intercourse could have no suspicion of such a result. Whenoffended, his customary behaviour was exceedingly rugged. He thoughtonly of setting the delinquent right, and humbling him for his error;and, in his eagerness to do this, overlooked the sensibility of thesufferer, and the pains he inflicted. Remonstrance in such a case heregarded as the offspring of cowardice, which was to be extirpated witha steady and unshrinking hand, and not soothed with misjudging kindnessand indulgence. As is usual in human character, he had formed a systemof thinking to suit the current of his feelings. He held that thekindness we entertain for a man should be veiled and concealed, exertedin substantial benefits, but not disclosed, lest an undue advantageshould be taken of it by its object. 

With this rugged outside, Mr. Forester had a warm and generous heart. Atfirst sight all men were deterred by his manner, and excited to give himan ill character. But the longer any one knew him, the more theyapproved him. His harshness was then only considered as habit; andstrong sense and active benevolence were uppermost in the recollectionof his familiar acquaintance. His conversation, when he condescended tolay aside his snappish, rude, and abrupt half-sentences, became flowingin diction, and uncommonly amusing with regard to its substance. Hecombined, with weightiness of expression, a dryness of characteristichumour, that demonstrated at once the vividness of his observation, andthe force of his understanding. The peculiarities of this gentleman'scharacter were not undisplayed in the scene to which he was nowintroduced. Having much kindness in his disposition, he soon becamedeeply interested in the unhappiness of his relation. He did every thingin his power to remove it; but his attempts were rude and unskilful. With a mind so accomplished and a spirit so susceptible as that of Mr. Falkland, Mr. Forester did not venture to let loose his usual violenceof manner; but, if he carefully abstained from harshness, he was howeverwholly incapable of that sweet and liquid eloquence of the soul, whichwould perhaps have stood the fairest chance of seducing Mr. Falkland fora moment to forget his anguish. He exhorted his host to rouse up hisspirit, and defy the foul fiend; but the tone of his exhortations foundno sympathetic chord in the mind of my patron. He had not the skill tocarry conviction to an understanding so well fortified in error. In aword, after a thousand efforts of kindness to his entertainer, he drewoff his forces, growling and dissatisfied with his own impotence, ratherthan angry at the obstinacy of Mr. Falkland. He felt no diminution ofhis affection for him, and was sincerely grieved to find that he was solittle capable of serving him. Both parties in this case did justice tothe merits of the other; at the same time that the disparity of theirhumours was such, as to prevent the stranger from being in any degree adangerous companion to the master of the house. They had scarcely onepoint of contact in their characters. Mr. Forester was incapable ofgiving Mr. Falkland that degree either of pain or pleasure, which canraise the soul into a tumult, and deprive it for a while of tranquillityand self-command. 

Our visitor was a man, notwithstanding appearances, of a peculiarlysociable disposition, and, where he was neither interrupted norcontradicted, considerably loquacious. He began to feel himselfpainfully out of his element upon the present occasion. Mr. Falklandwas devoted to contemplation and solitude. He put upon himself somedegree of restraint upon the arrival of his kinsman, though even thenhis darling habits would break out. But when they had seen each other acertain number of times, and it was sufficiently evident that thesociety of either would be a burthen rather than a pleasure to theother, they consented, by a sort of silent compact, that each should beat liberty to follow his own inclination. Mr. Falkland was, in a sense, the greatest gainer by this. He returned to the habits of his choice, and acted, as nearly as possible, just as he would have done if Mr. Forester had not been in existence. But the latter was wholly at a loss. He had all the disadvantages of retirement, without being able, as hemight have done at his house, to bring his own associates or his ownamusements about him. 

In this situation lie cast his eyes upon me. It was his principle to doevery thing that his thoughts suggested, without caring for the forms ofthe world. He saw no reason why a peasant, with certain advantages ofeducation and opportunity, might not be as eligible a companion as alord; at the same time that he was deeply impressed with thevenerableness of old institutions. Reduced as he was to a kind of lastresort, he found me better qualified for his purpose than any other ofMr. Falkland's household. 

The manner in which he began this sort of correspondence wassufficiently characteristical. It was abrupt; but it was stronglystamped with essential benevolence. It was blunt and humorous; but therewas attractiveness, especially in a case of unequal intercourse, in thatvery rusticity by which he levelled himself with the mass of hisspecies. He had to reconcile himself as well as to invite me; not toreconcile himself to the postponing an aristocratical vanity, for ofthat he had a very slender portion, but to the trouble of invitation, for he loved his ease. All this produced some irregularity andindecision in his own mind, and gave a whimsical impression to hisbehaviour. 

On my part, I was by no means ungrateful for the distinction that waspaid me. My mind had been relaxed into temporary dejection, but myreserve had no alloy of moroseness or insensibility. It did not longhold out against the condescending attentions of Mr. Forester. I becamegradually heedful, encouraged, confiding. I had a most eager thirst forthe knowledge of mankind; and though no person perhaps ever purchased sodearly the instructions he received in that school, the inclination wasin no degree diminished. Mr. Forester was the second man I had seenuncommonly worthy of my analysis, and who seemed to my thoughts, arrivedas I was at the end of my first essay, almost as much deserving to bestudied as Mr. Falkland himself. I was glad to escape from theuneasiness of my reflections; and, while engaged with this new friend, Iforgot the criticalness of the evils with which I was hourly menaced. 

Stimulated by these feelings, I was what Mr. Forester wanted, a diligentand zealous hearer, I was strongly susceptible of impression; and thealternate impressions my mind received, visibly displayed themselves inmy countenance and gestures. The observations Mr. Forester had made inhis travels, the set of opinions he had formed, all amused andinterested me. His manner of telling a story, or explaining histhoughts, was forcible, perspicuous, and original: his style inconversation had an uncommon zest. Every thing he had to relatedelighted me; while, in return, my sympathy, my eager curiosity, and myunsophisticated passions, rendered me to Mr. Forester a most desirablehearer. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that every day renderedour intercourse more intimate and cordial. 

Mr. Falkland was destined to be for ever unhappy; and it seemed as if nonew incident could occur, from which he was not able to extract food forthis imperious propensity. He was wearied with a perpetual repetition ofsimilar impressions; and entertained an invincible disgust against allthat was new. The visit of Mr. Forester he regarded with antipathy. Hewas scarcely able to look at him without shuddering; an emotion whichhis guest perceived, and pitied as the result of habit and disease, rather than of judgment. None of his actions passed unremarked; the mostindifferent excited uneasiness and apprehension. The first overtures ofintimacy between me and Mr. Forester probably gave birth to sentimentsof jealousy in the mind of my master. The irregular, variable characterof his visitor tended to heighten them, by producing an appearance ofinexplicableness and mystery. At this time he intimated to me that itwas not agreeable to him, that there should be much intercourse betweenme and this gentleman. 

What could I do? Young as I was, could it be expected that I should playthe philosopher, and put a perpetual curb upon my inclinations?Imprudent though I had been, could I voluntarily subject myself to aneternal penance, and estrangement from human society? Could I discouragea frankness so perfectly in consonance with my wishes, and receive in anungracious way a kindness that stole away my heart?

Besides this, I was but ill prepared for the servile submission Mr. Falkland demanded. In early life I had been accustomed to be much my ownmaster. When I first entered into Mr. Falkland's service, my personalhabits were checked by the novelty of my situation, and my affectionswere gained by the high accomplishments of my patron. To novelty and itsinfluence, curiosity had succeeded: curiosity, so long as it lasted, wasa principle stronger in my bosom than even the love of independence. Tothat I would have sacrificed my liberty or my life; to gratify it, Iwould have submitted to the condition of a West Indian negro, or to thetortures inflicted by North American savages. But the turbulence ofcuriosity had now subsided. 

As long as the threats of Mr. Falkland had been confined to generals, Iendured it. I was conscious of the unbecoming action I had committed, and this rendered me humble. But, when he went further, and undertook toprescribe to every article of my conduct, my patience was at an end. Mymind, before sufficiently sensible to the unfortunate situation to whichmy imprudence had reduced me, now took a nearer and a more alarming viewof the circumstances of the case. Mr. Falkland was not an old man; hehad in him the principles of vigour, however they might seem to beshaken; he might live as long as I should. I was his prisoner; and whata prisoner! All my actions observed; all my gestures marked. I couldmove neither to the right nor the left, but the eye of my keeper wasupon me. He watched me; and his vigilance was a sickness to my heart. For me there was no more freedom, no more of hilarity, ofthoughtlessness, or of youth. Was this the life upon which I had enteredwith such warm and sanguine expectation? Were my days to be wasted inthis cheerless gloom; a galley-slave in the hands of the system ofnature, whom death only, the death of myself or my inexorable superior, could free?

I had been adventurous in the gratification of an infantine andunreasonable curiosity; and I resolved not to be less adventurous, ifneed were, in the defence of every thing that can make life a blessing. I was prepared for an amicable adjustment of interests: I wouldundertake that Mr. Falkland should never sustain injury through mymeans; but I expected in return that I should suffer no encroachment, but be left to the direction of my own understanding. 

I went on, then, to seek Mr. Forester's society with eagerness; and itis the nature of an intimacy that does not decline, progressively toincrease. Mr. Falkland observed these symptoms with visibleperturbation. Whenever I was conscious of their being perceived by him, I betrayed tokens of confusion: this did not tend to allay hisuneasiness. One day he spoke to me alone; and, with a look of mysteriousbut terrible import, expressed himself thus:--

"Young man, take warning! Perhaps this is the last time you shall havean opportunity to take it! I will not always be the butt of yoursimplicity and inexperience, nor suffer your weakness to triumph over mystrength! Why do you trifle with me? You little suspect the extent of mypower. At this moment you are enclosed with the snares of my vengeanceunseen by you, and, at the instant that you flatter yourself you arealready beyond their reach, they will close upon you. You might as wellthink of escaping from the power of the omnipresent God, as from mine!If you could touch so much as my finger, you should expiate it in hoursand months and years of a torment, of which as yet you have not theremotest idea. Remember! I am not talking at random! I do not utter aword, that, if you provoke me, shall not be executed to the severestletter!"

It may be supposed that these menaces were not without their effect. Iwithdrew in silence. My whole soul revolted against the treatment Iendured, and yet I could not utter a word. Why could not I speak theexpostulations of my heart, or propose the compromise I meditated? Itwas inexperience, and not want of strength, that awed me. Every act ofMr. Falkland contained something new, and I was unprepared to meet it. Perhaps it will be found that the greatest hero owes the propriety ofhis conduct to the habit of encountering difficulties, and calling outwith promptness the energies of his mind. 

I contemplated the proceedings of my patron with the deepestastonishment. Humanity and general kindness were fundamental parts ofhis character; but in relation to me they were sterile and inactive. Hisown interest required that he should purchase my kindness; but hepreferred to govern me by terror, and watch me with unceasing anxiety. Iruminated with the most mournful sensations upon the nature of mycalamity. I believed that no human being was ever placed in a situationso pitiable as mine. Every atom of my frame seemed to have a severalexistence, and to crawl within me. I had but too much reason to believethat Mr. Falkland's threats were not empty words. I knew his ability; Ifelt his ascendancy. If I encountered him, what chance had I of victory?If I were defeated, what was the penalty I had to suffer? Well then, therest of my life must be devoted to slavish subjection. Miserablesentence! And, if it were, what security had I against the injustice ofa man, vigilant, capricious, and criminal? I envied the condemned wretchupon the scaffold; I envied the victim of the inquisition in the midstof his torture. They know what they have to suffer. I had only toimagine every thing terrible, and then say, "The fate reserved for meis worse than this!"

It was well for me that these sensations were transient: human naturecould not long support itself under what I then felt. By degrees my mindshook off its burthen. Indignation succeeded to emotions of terror. Thehostility of Mr. Falkland excited hostility in me. I determined I wouldnever calumniate him in matters of the most trivial import, much lessbetray the grand secret upon which every thing dear to him depended. But, totally abjuring the offensive, I resolved to stand firmly upon thedefensive. The liberty of acting as I pleased I would preserve, whatevermight be the risk. If I were worsted in the contest, I would at leasthave the consolation of reflecting that I had exerted myself withenergy. In proportion as I thus determined, I drew off my forces frompetty incursions, and felt the propriety of acting with premeditationand system. I ruminated incessantly upon plans of deliverance, but I wasanxious that my choice should not be precipitately made. 

It was during this period of my deliberation and uncertainty that Mr. Forester terminated his visit. He observed a strange distance in mybehaviour, and, in his good-natured, rough way, reproached me for it. Icould only answer with a gloomy look of mysterious import, and amournful and expressive silence. He sought me for an explanation, but Iwas now as ingenious in avoiding as I had before been ardent to seekhim; and he quitted our house, as he afterwards told me, with animpression, that there was some ill destiny that hung over it, whichseemed fated to make all its inhabitants miserable, without its beingpossible for a bystander to penetrate the reason. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Mr. Forester had left us about three weeks, when Mr. Falkland sent meupon some business to an estate he possessed in a neighbouring county, about fifty miles from his principal residence. The road led in adirection wholly wide of the habitation of our late visitor. I was uponmy return from the place to which I had been sent, when I began in fancyto take a survey of the various circumstances of my condition, and bydegrees lost, in the profoundness of my contemplation, all attention tothe surrounding objects. The first determination of my mind was toescape from the lynx-eyed jealousy and despotism of Mr. Falkland; thesecond to provide, by every effort of prudence and deliberation I coulddevise, against the danger with which I well knew my attempt must beaccompanied. 

Occupied with these meditations, I rode many miles before I perceivedthat I had totally deviated from the right path. At length I rousedmyself, and surveyed the horizon round me; but I could observe nothingwith which my organ was previously acquainted. On three sides, the heathstretched as far as the eye could reach; on the fourth, I discovered atsome distance a wood of no ordinary dimensions. Before me, scarcely asingle track could be found, to mark that any human being had evervisited the spot. As the best expedient I could devise, I bent my coursetowards the wood I have mentioned, and then pursued, as well as I wasable, the windings of the inclosure. This led me, after some time, tothe end of the heath; but I was still as much at a loss as everrespecting the road I should pursue. The sun was hid from me by a greyand cloudy atmosphere; I was induced to continue along the skirts ofthe wood, and surmounted with some difficulty the hedges and otherobstacles that from time to time presented themselves. My thoughts weregloomy and disconsolate; the dreariness of the day, and the solitudewhich surrounded me, seemed to communicate a sadness to my soul. I hadproceeded a considerable way, and was overcome with hunger and fatigue, when I discovered a road and a little inn at no great distance. I madeup to them, and upon enquiry found that, instead of pursuing the properdirection, I had taken one that led to Mr. Forester's rather than to myown habitation. I alighted, and was entering the house, when theappearance of that gentleman struck my eyes. 

Mr. Forester accosted me with kindness, invited me into the room wherehe had been sitting, and enquired what accident had brought me to thatplace. 

While he was speaking, I could not help recollecting the extraordinarymanner in which we were thus once more brought together, and a train ofideas was by this means suggested to my mind. Some refreshment was, byMr. Forester's order, prepared for me; I sat down, and partook of it. Still this thought dwelt upon my recollection:--"Mr. Falkland will neverbe made acquainted with our meeting; I have an opportunity thrown in myway, which if I do not improve, I shall deserve all the consequencesthat may result. I can now converse with a friend, and a powerfulfriend, without fear of being watched and overlooked. " What wonder thatI was tempted to disclose, not Mr. Falkland's secret, but my ownsituation, and receive the advice of a man of worth and experience, which might perhaps be adequately done without entering into any detailinjurious to my patron?

Mr. Forester, on his part, expressed a desire to learn why it was Ithought myself unhappy, and why I had avoided him during the latter partof his residence under the same roof, as evidently as I had before takenpleasure in his communications. I replied, that I could give him but animperfect satisfaction upon these points; but what I could, I wouldwillingly explain. The fact, I proceeded, was, that there were reasonswhich rendered it impossible for me to have a tranquil moment under theroof of Mr. Falkland. I had revolved the matter again and again in mymind, and was finally convinced that I owed it to myself to withdrawfrom his service. I added, that I was sensible, by this half-confidence, I might rather seem to merit the disapprobation of Mr. Forester than hiscountenance; but I declared my persuasion that, if he could beacquainted with the whole affair, however strange my behaviour might atpresent appear, he would applaud my reserve. 

He appeared to muse for a moment upon what I had said, and then askedwhat reason I could have to complain of Mr. Falkland? I replied, that Ientertained the deepest reverence for my patron; I admired hisabilities, and considered him as formed for the benefit of his species. I should in my own opinion be the vilest of miscreants, if I uttered awhisper to his disadvantage. But this did not avail: I was not fit forhim; perhaps I was not good enough for him; at all events, I must beperpetually miserable so long as I continued to live with him. 

I observed Mr. Forester gaze upon me eagerly with curiosity andsurprise; but this circumstance I did not think proper to notice. Havingrecovered himself, he enquired, why then, that being the case, I did notquit his service? I answered, what he now touched upon was that whichmost of all contributed to my misfortune. Mr. Falkland was not ignorantof my dislike to my present situation; perhaps he thought itunreasonable, unjust; but I knew that he would never be brought toconsent to my giving way to it. 

Here Mr. Forester interrupted me, and, smiling, said, I magnifiedobstacles, and over-rated my own importance; adding, that he wouldundertake to remove that difficulty, as well as to provide me with amore agreeable appointment. This suggestion produced in me a seriousalarm. I replied, that I must entreat him upon no account to think ofapplying to Mr. Falkland upon the subject. I added, that perhaps I wasonly betraying my imbecility; but in reality, unacquainted as I was withexperience and the world, I was afraid, though disgusted with my presentresidence, to expose myself upon a mere project of my own, to theresentment of so considerable a man as Mr. Falkland. If he would favourme with his advice upon the subject, or if he would only give me leaveto hope for his protection in case of any unforeseen accident, this wasall I presumed to request; and, thus encouraged. I would venture to obeythe dictates of my inclination, and fly in pursuit of my losttranquillity. 

Having thus opened myself to this generous friend, as far as I could doit with propriety and safety, he sat for some time silent, with an airof deep reflection. At length, with a countenance of unusual severity, and a characteristic fierceness of manner and voice, he thus addressedme: "Young man, perhaps you are ignorant of the nature of the conductyou at present hold. May be, you do not know that where there ismystery, there is always something at bottom that will not bear thetelling. Is this the way to obtain the favour of a man of consequenceand respectability? To pretend to make a confidence, and then tell him adisjointed story that has not common sense in it!"

I answered, that, whatever were the amount of that prejudice, I mustsubmit. I placed my hope of a candid construction, in the presentinstance, in the rectitude of his nature. 

He went on: "You do so; do you? I tell you, sir, the rectitude of mynature is an enemy to disguise. Come, boy, you must know that Iunderstand these things better than you. Tell all, or expect nothingfrom me but censure and contempt. "

"Sir, " replied I, "I have spoken from deliberation; I have told you mychoice, and, whatever be the result, I must abide by it. If in thismisfortune you refuse me your assistance, here I must end, having gainedby the communication only your ill opinion and displeasure. "

He looked hard at me, as if he would see me through. At length herelaxed his features, and softened his manner. "You are a foolish, headstrong boy, " said he, "and I shall have an eye upon you. I shallnever place in you the confidence I have done. But--I will not desertyou. At present, the balance between approbation and dislike is in yourfavour. How long it will last, I cannot tell; I engage for nothing. Butit is my rule to act as I feel. I will for this time do as yourequire;--and, pray God, it may answer. I will receive you, either nowor hereafter, under my roof, trusting that I shall have no reason torepent, and that appearances will terminate as favourably as I wish, though I scarcely know how to hope it. "

We were engaged in the earnest discussion of subjects thus interestingto my peace, when we were interrupted by an event the most earnestly tohave been deprecated. Without the smallest notice, and as if he haddropped upon us from the clouds, Mr. Falkland burst into the room. Ifound afterwards that Mr. Forester had come thus far upon anappointment to meet Mr. Falkland, and that the place of their intendedrendezvous was at the next stage. Mr. Forester was detained at the innwhere we now were by our accidental rencounter, and in reality had forthe moment forgotten his appointment; while Mr. Falkland, not findinghim where he expected, proceeded thus far towards the house of hiskinsman. To me the meeting was most unaccountable in the world. 

I instantly foresaw the dreadful complication of misfortune that wasincluded in this event. To Mr. Falkland, the meeting between me and hisrelation must appear not accidental, but, on my part at least, theresult of design. I was totally out of the road I had been travelling byhis direction; I was in a road that led directly to the house of Mr. Forester. What must he think of this? How must he suppose I came to thatplace? The truth, if told, that I came there without design, and purelyin consequence of having lost my way, must appear to be the mostpalpable lie that ever was devised. 

Here then I stood detected in the fact of that intercourse which hadbeen so severely forbidden. But in this instance it was infinitely worsethan in those which had already given so much disturbance to Mr. Falkland. It was then frank and unconcealed; and therefore thepresumption was, that it was for purposes that required no concealment. But the present interview, if concerted, was in the most emphaticaldegree clandestine. Nor was it less perilous than it was clandestine: ithad been forbidden with the most dreadful menaces; and Mr. Falkland wasnot ignorant how deep an impression those menaces had made upon myimagination. Such a meeting therefore could not have been concertedunder such circumstances, for a trivial purpose, or for any purposethat his heart did not ache to think of. Such was the amount of mycrime, such was the agony my appearance was calculated to inspire; andit was reasonable to suppose that the penalty I had to expect would beproportionable. The threats of Mr. Falkland still sounded in my ears, and I was in a transport of terror. 

The conduct of the same man in different circumstances, is often sovarious as to render it very difficult to be accounted for. Mr. Falkland, in this to him, terrible crisis, did not seem to be in anydegree hurried away by passion. For a moment he was dumb; his eyesglared with astonishment; and the next moment, as it were, he had themost perfect calmness and self-command. Had it been otherwise, I have nodoubt that I should instantly have entered into an explanation of themanner in which I came there, the ingenuousness and consistency of whichcould not but have been in some degree attended with a favourable event. But, as it was, I suffered myself to be overcome; I yielded, as in aformer instance, to the discomfiting influence of surprise. I daredscarcely breathe; I observed the appearances with equal anxiety andsurprise. Mr. Falkland quietly ordered me to return home, and take alongwith me the groom he had brought with him. I obeyed in silence. 

I afterwards understood, that he enquired minutely of Mr. Forester thecircumstances of our meeting; and that that gentleman, perceiving thatthe meeting itself was discovered, and guided by habits of frankness, which, when once rooted in a character, it is difficult to counteract, told Mr. Falkland every thing that had passed, together with the remarksit had suggested to his own mind. Mr. Falkland received thecommunication with an ambiguous and studied silence, which by no meansoperated to my advantage in the already poisoned mind of Mr. Forester. His silence was partly the direct consequence of a mind watchful, inquisitive, and doubting; and partly perhaps was adopted for the sakeof the effect it was calculated to produce, Mr. Falkland not beingunwilling to encourage prejudices against a character which might oneday come in competition with his own. 

As to me, I went home indeed, for this was not a moment to resist. Mr. Falkland, with a premeditation to which he had given the appearance ofaccident, had taken care to send with me a guard to attend upon hisprisoner. I seemed as if conducting to one of those fortresses, famed inthe history of despotism, from which the wretched victim is never knownto come forth alive; and when I entered my chamber, I felt as if I wereentering a dungeon. I reflected that I was at the mercy of a man, exasperated at my disobedience, and who was already formed to cruelty bysuccessive murders. My prospects were now closed; I was cut off for everfrom pursuits that I had meditated with ineffable delight; my deathmight be the event of a few hours. I was a victim at the shrine ofconscious guilt, that knew neither rest nor satiety; I should be blottedfrom the catalogue of the living, and my fate remain eternally a secret;the man who added my murder to his former crimes, would show himself thenext morning, and be hailed with the admiration and applause of hisspecies. 

In the midst of these terrible imaginations, one idea presented itselfthat alleviated my feelings. This was the recollection of the strangeand unaccountable tranquillity which Mr. Falkland had manifested, whenhe discovered me in company with Mr. Forester. I was not deceived bythis. I knew that the calm was temporary, and would be succeeded by atumult and whirlwind of the most dreadful sort. But a man under thepower of such terrors as now occupied me catches at every reed. I saidto myself, "This tranquillity is a period it is incumbent upon me toimprove; the shorter its duration may be found, the more speedy am Iobliged to be in the use of it. " In a word, I took the resolution, because I already stood in fear of the vengeance of Mr. Falkland, torisk the possibility of provoking it in a degree still more inexpiable, and terminate at once my present state of uncertainty. I had now openedmy case to Mr. Forester, and he had given me positive assurances of hisprotection. I determined immediately to address the following letter toMr. Falkland. The consideration that, if he meditated any thingtragical, such a letter would only tend to confirm him, did not enterinto the present feelings of my mind. 

"Sir, "I have conceived the intention of quitting your service. This is ameasure we ought both of us to desire. I shall then be, what it is myduty to be, master of my own actions. You will be delivered from thepresence of a person, whom you cannot prevail upon yourself to beholdwithout unpleasing emotions. 

"Why should you subject me to an eternal penance? Why should you consignmy youthful hopes to suffering and despair? Consult the principles ofhumanity that have marked the general course of your proceedings, and donot let me, I entreat you, be made the subject of a useless severity. Myheart is impressed with gratitude for your favours. I sincerely ask yourforgiveness for the many errors of my conduct. I consider the treatmentI have received under your roof, as one almost uninterrupted scene ofkindness and generosity. I shall never forget my obligations to you, and will never betray them. 

"I remain, Sir, "Your most grateful, respectful, "and dutiful servant, "CALEB WILLIAMS. "

Such was my employment of the evening of a day which will be evermemorable in the history of my life. Mr. Falkland not being yetreturned, though expected every hour, I was induced to make use of thepretence of fatigue to avoid an interview. I went to bed. It may beimagined that my slumbers were neither deep nor refreshing. 

The next morning I was informed that my patron did not come home tilllate; that he had enquired for me, and, being told that I was in bed, had said nothing further upon the subject. Satisfied in this respect, Iwent to the breakfasting parlour, and, though full of anxiety andtrepidation, endeavoured to busy myself in arranging the books, and afew other little occupations, till Mr. Falkland should come down. Aftera short time I heard his step, which I perfectly well knew how todistinguish, in the passage. Presently he stopped, and, speaking to someone in a sort of deliberate, but smothered voice, I overheard him repeatmy name as enquiring for me. In conformity to the plan I had persuadedmyself to adopt, I now laid the letter I had written upon the table atwhich he usually sat, and made my exit at one door as Mr. Falklandentered at the other. This done, I withdrew, with flutterings andpalpitation, to a private apartment, a sort of light closet at the endof the library, where I was accustomed not unfrequently to sit. 

I had not been here three minutes, when I heard the voice of Mr. Falkland calling me. I went to him in the library. His manner was thatof a man labouring with some dreadful thought, and endeavouring to givean air of carelessness and insensibility to his behaviour. Perhaps nocarriage of any other sort could have produced a sensation of suchinexplicable horror, or have excited, in the person who was its object, such anxious uncertainty about the event. --"That is your letter, " saidhe, throwing it. 

"My lad, " continued he, "I believe now you have played all your tricks, and the farce is nearly at an end! With your apishness and absurdityhowever you have taught me one thing; and, whereas before I have wincedat them with torture, I am now as tough as an elephant. I shall crushyou in the end with the same indifference, that I would any other littleinsect that disturbed my serenity. 

"I am unable to tell what brought about your meeting with Mr. Foresteryesterday. It might be design; it might be accident. But, I shall notforget it. You write me here, that you are desirous to quit my service. To that I have a short answer: You never shall quit it with life. If youattempt it, you shall never cease to rue your folly as long as youexist. That is my will; and I will not have it resisted. The very nexttime you disobey me in that or any other article, there is an end ofyour vagaries for ever. Perhaps your situation may be a pitiable one; itis for you to look to that. I only know that it is in your power toprevent its growing worse; no time nor chance shall ever make it better. 

"Do not imagine I am afraid of you! I wear an armour, against which allyour weapons are impotent. I have dug a pit for you; and, whichever wayyou move, backward or forward, to the right or the left, it is ready toswallow you. Be still! If once you fall, call as loud as you will, noman on earth shall hear your cries; prepare a tale however plausible, orhowever true, the whole world shall execrate you for an impostor. Yourinnocence shall be of no service to you; I laugh at so feeble a defence. It is I that say it; you may believe what I tell you--Do you not know, miserable wretch!" added he, suddenly altering his tone, and stampingupon the ground with fury, "that I have sworn to preserve my reputation, whatever be the expense; that I love it more than the whole world andits inhabitants taken together? And do you think that you shall woundit? Begone, miscreant! reptile! and cease to contend with insurmountablepower!"

The part of my history which I am now relating is that which I reflectupon with the least complacency. Why was it, that I was once moretotally overcome by the imperious carriage of Mr. Falkland, and unableto utter a word? The reader will be presented with many occasions in thesequel, in which I wanted neither facility in the invention ofexpedients, nor fortitude in entering upon my justification. Persecutionat length gave firmness to my character, and taught me the better partof manhood. But in the present instance I was irresolute, overawed, andabashed. 

The speech I had heard was the dictate of frenzy, and it created in me asimilar frenzy. It determined me to do the very thing against which Iwas thus solemnly warned, and fly from my patron's house. I could notenter into parley with him; I could no longer endure the vilesubjugation he imposed on me. It was in vain that my reason warned me ofthe rashness of a measure, to be taken without concert or preparation. Iseemed to be in a state in which reason had no power. I felt as if Icould coolly survey the several arguments of the case, perceive thatthey had prudence, truth, and common sense on their side; and thenanswer, I am under the guidance of a director more energetic than you. 

I was not long in executing what I had thus rapidly determined. I fixedon the evening of that very day as the period of my evasion. Even inthis short interval I had perhaps sufficient time for deliberation. Butall opportunity was useless to me; my mind was fixed, and eachsucceeding moment only increased the unspeakable eagerness with which Imeditated my escape. The hours usually observed by our family in thiscountry residence were regular; and one in the morning was the time Iselected for my undertaking. 

In searching the apartment where I slept, I had formerly discovered aconcealed door, which led to a small apartment of the most secretnature, not uncommon in houses so old as that of Mr. Falkland, and whichhad perhaps served as a refuge from persecution, or a security from theinveterate hostilities of a barbarous age. I believed no person wasacquainted with this hiding-place but myself. I felt unaccountablyimpelled to remove into it the different articles of my personalproperty. I could not at present take them away with me. If I were neverto recover them, I felt that it would be a gratification to mysentiment, that no trace of my existence should be found after mydeparture. Having completed their removal, and waited till the hour Ihad previously chosen, I stole down quietly from my chamber with a lampin my hand. I went along a passage that led to a small door opening intothe garden, and then crossed the garden, to a gate that intersected anelm-walk and a private horse-path on the outside. 

I could scarcely believe my good fortune in having thus far executed mydesign without interruption. The terrible images Mr. Falkland's menaceshad suggested to my mind, made me expect impediment and detection atevery step; though the impassioned state of my mind impelled me toadvance with desperate resolution. He probably however counted toosecurely upon the ascendancy of his sentiments, when imperiouslypronounced, to think it necessary to take precautions against a sinisterevent. For myself, I drew a favourable omen as to the final result of myproject, from the smoothness of success that attended it in the outset. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The first plan that had suggested itself to me was, to go to the nearestpublic road, and take the earliest stage for London. There I believed Ishould be most safe from discovery, if the vengeance of Mr. Falklandshould prompt him to pursue me; and I did not doubt, among themultiplied resources of the metropolis, to find something which shouldsuggest to me an eligible mode of disposing of my person and industry. Ireserved Mr. Forester in my arrangement, as a last resource, not to becalled forth unless for immediate protection from the hand ofpersecution and power. I was destitute of that experience of the world, which can alone render us fertile in resources, or enable us toinstitute a just comparison between the resources that offer themselves. I was like the fascinated animal, that is seized with the most terribleapprehensions, at the same time that he is incapable of adequatelyconsidering for his own safety. 

The mode of my proceeding being digested, I traced, with a cheerfulheart, the unfrequented path it was now necessary for me to pursue. Thenight was gloomy, and it drizzled with rain. But these werecircumstances I had scarcely the power to perceive; all was sunshine andjoy within me. I hardly felt the ground; I repeated to myself a thousandtimes, "I am free. What concern have I with danger and alarm? I feelthat I am free; I feel that I will continue so. What power is able tohold in chains a mind ardent and determined? What power can cause thatman to die, whose whole soul commands him to continue to live?" I lookedback with abhorrence to the subjection in which I had been held. I didnot hate the author of my misfortunes--truth and justice acquit me ofthat; I rather pitied the hard destiny to which he seemed condemned. ButI thought with unspeakable loathing of those errors, in consequence ofwhich every man is fated to be, more or less, the tyrant or the slave. Iwas astonished at the folly of my species, that they did not rise up asone man, and shake off chains so ignominious, and misery soinsupportable. So far as related to myself, I resolved--and thisresolution has never been entirety forgotten by me--to hold myselfdisengaged from this odious scene, and never fill the part either of theoppressor or the sufferer. My mind continued in this enthusiasticalstate, full of confidence, and accessible only to such a portion of fearas served rather to keep up a state of pleasurable emotion than togenerate anguish and distress, during the whole of this nocturnalexpedition. After a walk of three hours, I arrived, without accident, atthe village from which I hoped to have taken my passage for themetropolis. At this early hour every thing was quiet; no sound of anything human saluted my ear. It was with difficulty that I gainedadmittance into the yard of the inn, where I found a single ostlertaking care of some horses. From him I received the unwelcome tidings, that the coach was not expected till six o'clock in the morning of theday after to-morrow, its route through that town recurring only threetimes a week. 

This intelligence gave the first check to the rapturous inebriation bywhich my mind had been possessed from the moment I quitted thehabitation of Mr. Falkland. The whole of my fortune in ready cashconsisted of about eleven guineas. I had about fifty more, that hadfallen to me from the disposal of my property at the death of my father;but that was so vested as to preclude it from immediate use, and I evendoubted whether it would not be found better ultimately to resign it, than, by claiming it, to risk the furnishing a clew to what I most ofall dreaded, the persecution of Mr. Falkland. There was nothing I soardently desired as the annihilation of all future intercourse betweenus, that he should not know there was such a person on the earth asmyself, and that I should never more hear the repetition of a name whichhad been so fatal to my peace. 

Thus circumstanced, I conceived frugality to be an object by no meansunworthy of my attention, unable as I was to prognosticate whatdiscouragements and delays might present themselves to theaccomplishment of my wishes, after my arrival in London. For this andother reasons, I determined to adhere to my design of travelling by thestage; it only remaining for me to consider in what manner I shouldprevent the eventful delay of twenty-four hours from becoming, by anyuntoward event, a source of new calamity. It was by no means advisableto remain in the village where I now was during this interval; nor did Ieven think proper to employ it, in proceeding on foot along the greatroad. I therefore decided upon making a circuit, the direction of whichshould seem at first extremely wide of my intended route, and then, suddenly taking a different inclination, should enable me to arrive bythe close of day at a market-town twelve miles nearer to the metropolis. 

Having fixed the economy of the day, and persuaded myself that it wasthe best which, under the circumstances, could be adopted, I dismissed, for the most part, all further anxieties from my mind, and eagerlyyielded myself up to the different amusements that arose. I rested andwent forward at the impulse of the moment. At one time I reclined upon abank immersed in contemplation, and at another exerted myself to analysethe prospects which succeeded each other. The haziness of the morningwas followed by a spirit-stirring and beautiful day. With the ductilityso characteristic of a youthful mind, I forgot the anguish which hadlately been my continual guest, and occupied myself entirely in dreamsof future novelty and felicity. I scarcely ever, in the whole course ofmy existence, spent a day of more various or exquisite gratification. Itfurnished a strong, and perhaps not an unsalutary contrast, to theterrors which had preceded, and the dreadful scenes that awaited me. 

In the evening I arrived at the place of my destination, and enquiredfor the inn at which the coach was accustomed to call. A circumstancehowever had previously excited my attention, and reproduced in me astate of alarm. 

Though it was already dark before I reached the town, my observationhad been attracted by a man, who passed me on horseback in the oppositedirection, about half a mile on the other side of the town. There was aninquisitiveness in his gesture that I did not like; and, as far as Icould discern his figure, I pronounced him an ill-looking man. He hadnot passed me more than two minutes before I heard the sound of a horseadvancing slowly behind me. These circumstances impressed some degree ofuneasy sensation upon my mind. I first mended my pace; and, this notappearing to answer the purpose, I afterwards loitered, that thehorseman might pass me. He did so; and, as I glanced at him, I thought Isaw that it was the same man. He now put his horse into a trot, andentered the town. I followed; and it was not long before I perceived himat the door of an alehouse, drinking a mug of beer. This however thedarkness prevented me from discovering, till I was in a manner upon him. I pushed forward, and saw him no more, till, as I entered the yard ofthe inn where I intended to sleep, the same man suddenly rode up to me, and asked if my name were Williams. 

This adventure, _while it had been passing_, expelled the gaiety of mymind, and filled me with anxiety. The apprehension however that I felt, appeared to me groundless: if I were pursued, I took it for granted itwould be by some of Mr. Falkland's people, and not by a stranger. Thedarkness took from me some of the simplest expedients of precaution. Idetermined at least to proceed to the inn, and make the necessaryenquiries. 

I no sooner heard the sound of the horse as I entered the yard, and thequestion proposed to me by the rider, than the dreadful certainty ofwhat I feared instantly took possession of my mind. Every incidentconnected with my late abhorred situation was calculated to impress mewith the deepest alarm. My first thought was, to betake myself to thefields, and trust to the swiftness of my flight for safety. But this wasscarcely practicable: I remarked that my enemy was alone; and I believedthat, man to man, I might reasonably hope to get the better of him, either by the firmness of my determination, or the subtlety of myinvention. 

Thus resolved, I replied in an impetuous and peremptory tone, that I wasthe man he took me for; adding, "I guess your errand; but it is to nopurpose. You come to conduct me back to Falkland House; but no forceshall ever drag me to that place alive. I have not taken my resolutionwithout strong reasons; and all the world shall not persuade me to alterit. I am an Englishman, and it is the privilege of an Englishman to besole judge and master of his own actions. "

"You are in the devil of a hurry, " replied the man, "to guess myintentions, and tell your own. But your guess is right; and mayhap youmay have reason to be thankful that my errand is not something worse. Sure enough the squire expects you;--but I have a letter, and when youhave read that, I suppose you will come off a little of your stoutness. If that does not answer, it will then be time to think what is to bedone next. "

Thus saying, he gave me his letter, which was from Mr. Forester, whom, as he told me, he had left at Mr. Falkland's house. I went into a roomof the inn for the purpose of reading it, and was followed by thebearer. The letter was as follows:--

WILLIAMS, "My brother Falkland has sent the bearer in pursuit of you. He expectsthat, if found, you will return with him: I expect it too. It is of theutmost consequence to your future honour and character. After readingthese lines, if you are a villain and a rascal, you will perhapsendeavour to fly; if your conscience tells you, you are innocent, youwill, out of all doubt, come back. Show me then whether I have been yourdupe: and, while I was won over by your seeming ingenuousness, havesuffered myself to be made the tool of a designing knave. If you come, Ipledge myself that, if you clear your reputation, you shall not only befree to go wherever you please, but shall receive every assistance in mypower to give. Remember, I engage for nothing further than that. 

"VALENTINE FORESTER. "

What a letter was this! To a mind like mine, glowing with the love ofvirtue, such an address was strong enough to draw the person to whom itwas addressed from one end of the earth to the other. My mind was fullof confidence and energy. I felt my own innocence, and was determined toassert it. I was willing to be driven out a fugitive; I even rejoiced inmy escape, and cheerfully went out into the world destitute of everyprovision, and depending for my future prospects upon my own ingenuity. 

Thus much, said I, Falkland! you may do. Dispose of me as you pleasewith respect to the goods of fortune; but you shall neither make prizeof my liberty, nor sully the whiteness of my name. I repassed in mythoughts every memorable incident that had happened to me under hisroof. I could recollect nothing, except the affair of the mysterioustrunk, out of which the shadow of a criminal accusation could beextorted. In that instance my conduct had been highly reprehensible, andI had never looked back upon it without remorse and self-condemnation. But I did not believe that it was of the nature of those actions whichcan be brought under legal censure. I could still less persuade myselfthat Mr. Falkland, who shuddered at the very possibility of detection, and who considered himself as completely in my power, would dare tobring forward a subject so closely connected with the internal agony ofhis soul. In a word, the more I reflected on the phrases of Mr. Forester's billet, the less could I imagine the nature of those scenesto which they were to serve as a prelude. 

The inscrutableness however of the mystery they contained, did notsuffice to overwhelm my courage. My mind seemed to undergo an entirerevolution. Timid and embarrassed as I had felt myself, when I regardedMr. Falkland as my clandestine and domestic foe, I now conceived thatthe case was entirely altered. "Meet me, " said I, "as an open accuser:if we must contend, let us contend in the face of day; and then, unparalleled as your resources may be, I will not fear you. " Innocenceand guilt were, in my apprehension, the things in the whole world themost opposite to each other. I would not suffer myself to believe, thatthe former could be confounded with the latter, unless the innocent manfirst allowed himself to be subdued in mind, before he was defrauded ofthe good opinion of mankind. Virtue rising superior to every calamity, defeating by a plain unvarnished tale all the stratagems of Vice, andthrowing back upon her adversary the confusion with which he had hopedto overwhelm her, was one of the favourite subjects of my youthfulreveries. I determined never to prove an instrument of destruction toMr. Falkland; but I was not less resolute to obtain justice to myself. 

The issue of all these confident hopes I shall immediately haveoccasion to relate. It was thus, with the most generous and undoubtingspirit, that I rushed upon irretrievable ruin. 

"Friend, " said I to the bearer, after a considerable interval ofsilence, "you are right. This is, indeed, an extraordinary letter youhave brought me; but it answers its purpose. I will certainly go withyou now, whatever be the consequence. No person shall ever impute blameto me, so long as I have it in my power to clear myself. "

I felt, in the circumstances in which I was placed by Mr. Forester'sletter, not merely a willingness, but an alacrity and impatience, toreturn. We procured a second horse. We proceeded on our journey insilence. My mind was occupied again in endeavouring to account for Mr. Forester's letter. I knew the inflexibility and sternness of Mr. Falkland's mind in accomplishing the purposes he had at heart; but Ialso knew that every virtuous and magnanimous principle was congenial tohis character. 

When we arrived, midnight was already past, and we were obliged to wakenone of the servants to give us admittance. I found that Mr. Forester hadleft a message for me, in consideration of the possibility of my arrivalduring the night, directing me immediately to go to bed, and to takecare that I did not come weary and exhausted to the business of thefollowing day. I endeavoured to take his advice; but my slumbers wereunrefreshing and disturbed. I suffered however no reduction of courage:the singularity of my situation, my conjectures with respect to thepresent, my eagerness for the future, did not allow me to sink into alanguid and inactive state. 

Next morning the first person I saw was Mr. Forester. He told me thathe did not yet know what Mr. Falkland had to allege against me, for thathe had refused to know. He had arrived at the house of his brother byappointment on the preceding day to settle some indispensable business, his intention having been to depart the moment the business wasfinished, as he knew that conduct on his part would be most agreeable toMr. Falkland. But he was no sooner come, than he found the whole housein confusion, the alarm of my elopement having been given a few hoursbefore. Mr. Falkland had despatched servants in all directions inpursuit of me; and the servant from the market-town arrived at the samemoment with Mr. Forester, with intelligence that a person answering thedescription he gave, had been there very early in the morning enquiringrespecting the stage to London. 

Mr. Falkland seemed extremely disturbed at this information, andexclaimed on me with acrimony, as an unthankful and unnatural villain. 

Mr. Forester replied, "Have more command of yourself, sir! Villain is aserious appellation, and must not be trifled with. Englishmen are free;and no man is to be charged with villainy, because he changes one sourceof subsistence for another. "

Mr. Falkland shook his head, and with a smile, expressive of acutesensibility, said, "Brother, brother, you are the dupe of his art. Ialways considered him with an eye of suspicion, and was aware of hisdepravity. But I have just discovered--"

"Stop, sir!" interrupted Mr. Forester. "I own I thought that, in amoment of acrimony, you might be employing harsh epithets in a sort ofrandom style. But if you have a serious accusation to state, we must notbe told of that, till it is known whether the lad is within reach of ahearing. I am indifferent myself about the good opinion of others. It iswhat the world bestows and retracts with so little thought, that I canmake no account of its decision. But that does not authorise me lightlyto entertain an ill opinion of another. The slenderest allowance I thinkI can make to such as I consign to be the example and terror of theirspecies, is that of being heard in their own defence. It is a wiseprinciple that requires the judge to come into court uninformed of themerits of the cause he is to try; and to that principle I am determinedto conform as an individual. I shall always think it right to be severeand inflexible in my treatment of offenders; but the severity I exercisein the sequel, must be accompanied with impartiality and caution in whatis preliminary. "

While Mr. Forester related to me these particulars, he observed me readyto break out into some of the expressions which the narrative suggested;but he would not suffer me to speak. "No, " said he; "I would not hearMr. Falkland against you; and I cannot hear you in your defence. I cometo you at present to speak, and not to hear. I thought it right to warnyou of your danger, but I have nothing more to do now. Reserve what youhave to say to the proper time. Make the best story you can foryourself--true, if truth, as I hope, will serve your purpose; but, ifnot, the most plausible and ingenious you can invent. That is whatself-defence requires from every man, where, as it always happens to aman upon his trial, he has the whole world against him, and has his ownbattle to fight against the world. Farewell; and God send you a gooddeliverance! If Mr. Falkland's accusation, whatever it be, shall appearpremature, depend upon having me more zealously your friend than ever. If not, this is the last act of friendship you will ever receive fromme!"

It may be believed that this address, so singular, so solemn, so bigwith conditional menace, did not greatly tend to encourage me. I wastotally ignorant of the charge to be advanced against me; and not alittle astonished, when it was in my power to be in the most formidabledegree the accuser of Mr. Falkland, to find the principles of equity socompletely reversed, as for the innocent but instructed individual to bethe party accused and suffering, instead of having, as was natural, thereal criminal at his mercy. I was still more astonished at thesuperhuman power Mr. Falkland seemed to possess, of bringing the objectof his persecution within the sphere of his authority; a reflectionattended with some check to that eagerness and boldness of spirit, whichnow constituted the ruling passion of my mind. 

But this was no time for meditation. To the sufferer the course ofevents is taken out of his direction, and he is hurried along with anirresistible force, without finding it within the compass of his effortsto check their rapidity. I was allowed only a short time to recollectmyself, when my trial commenced. I was conducted to the library, where Ihad passed so many happy and so many contemplative hours, and foundthere Mr. Forester and three or four of the servants already assembled, in expectation of me and my accuser. Every thing was calculated tosuggest to me that I must trust only in the justice of the partiesconcerned, and had nothing to hope from their indulgence. Mr. Falklandentered at one door, almost as soon as I entered at the other. 

CHAPTER X. 

He began: "It has been the principle of my life, never to inflict awilful injury upon any thing that lives; I need not express my regret, when I find myself obliged to be the promulgator of a criminal charge. How gladly would I pass unnoticed the evil I have sustained; but I oweit to society to detect an offender, and prevent other men from beingimposed upon, as I have been, by an appearance of integrity. "

"It would be better, " interrupted Mr. Forester "to speak directly to thepoint. We ought not, though unwarily, by apologising for ourselves, tocreate at such a time a prejudice against an individual, against whom acriminal accusation will always be prejudice enough. "

"I strongly suspect, " continued Mr. Falkland, "this young man, who hasbeen peculiarly the object of my kindness, of having robbed me to aconsiderable amount. "

"What, " replied Mr. Forester, "are the grounds of your suspicion?"

"The first of them is the actual loss I have sustained, in notes, jewels, and plate. I have missed bank-notes to the amount of ninehundred pounds, three gold repeaters of considerable value, a completeset of diamonds, the property of my late mother, and several otherarticles. "

"And why, " continued my arbitrator, astonishment grief, and a desire toretain his self-possession, strong contending in his countenance andvoice, "do you fix on this young man as the instrument of thedepredation?"

"I found him, on my coming home, upon the day when every thing was indisorder from the alarm of fire, in the very act of quitting the privateapartment where these articles were deposited. He was confounded atseeing me, and hastened to withdraw as soon as he possibly could. "

"Did you say nothing to him--take no notice of the confusion your suddenappearance produced?"

"I asked what was his errand in that place. He was at first so terrifiedand overcome, that he could not answer me. Afterwards, with a good dealof faltering, he said that, when all the servants were engaged inendeavouring to save the most valuable part of my property, he had comehither with the same view; but that he had as yet removed nothing. "

"Did you immediately examine to see that every thing was safe?"

"No. I was accustomed to Confide in his honesty, and I was suddenlycalled away, in the present instance, to attend to the increasingprogress of the flames. I therefore only took out the key from the doorof the apartment, having first locked it, and, putting it in my pocket, hastened to go where my presence seemed indispensably necessary. "

"How long was it before you missed your property?"

"The same evening. The hurry of the scene had driven the circumstanceentirely out of my mind, till, going by accident near the apartment, thewhole affair, together with the singular and equivocal behaviour ofWilliams, rushed at once upon my recollection. I immediately entered, examined the trunk in which these things were contained, and, to myastonishment, found the locks broken, and the property gone. "

"What steps did you take upon this discovery?"

"I sent for Williams, and talked to him very seriously upon thesubject. But he had now perfectly recovered his self-command, and calmlyand stoutly denied all knowledge of the matter. I urged him with theenormousness of the offence, but I made no impression. He did notdiscover either the surprise and indignation one would have expectedfrom a person entirely innocent, or the uneasiness that generallyattends upon guilt. He was rather silent and reserved. I then informedhim, that I should proceed in a manner different from what he mightperhaps expect. I would not, as is too frequent in such cases, make ageneral search; for I had rather lose my property for ever withoutredress, than expose a multitude of innocent persons to anxiety andinjustice. My suspicion, for the present, unavoidably fixed upon him. But, in a matter of so great consequence, I was determined not to actupon suspicion. I would neither incur the possibility of ruining him, being innocent, nor be the instrument of exposing others to hisdepredations, if guilty. I should therefore merely insist upon hiscontinuing in my service. He might depend upon it he should be wellwatched, and I trusted the whole truth would eventually appear. Since heavoided confession now, I advised him to consider how far it was likelyhe would come off with impunity at last. This I determined on, that themoment he attempted an escape, I would consider that as an indication ofguilt, and proceed accordingly. "

"What circumstances have occurred from that time to the present?"

"None upon which I can infer a certainty of guilt; several that agree tofavour a suspicion. From that time Williams was perpetually uneasy inhis situation, always desirous, as it now appears, to escape, butafraid to adopt such a measure without certain precautions. It was notlong after, that you, Mr. Forester, became my visitor. I observed, withdissatisfaction, the growing intercourse between you, reflecting on theequivocalness of his character, and the attempt he would probably maketo render you the dupe of his hypocrisy. I accordingly threatened himseverely; and I believe you observed the change that presently afteroccurred in his behaviour with relation to you. "

"I did, and it appeared at that time mysterious and extraordinary. "

"Some time after, as you well know, a rencounter took place between you, whether accidental or intentional on his part I am not able to say, whenhe confessed to you the uneasiness of his mind, without discovering thecause, and openly proposed to you to assist him in his flight, andstand, in case of necessity, between him and my resentment. You offered, it seems, to take him into your service; but nothing, as heacknowledged, would answer his purpose, that did not place his retreatwholly out of my power to discover. "

"Did it not appear extraordinary to you, that he should hope for anyeffectual protection from me, while it remained perpetually in yourpower to satisfy me of his unworthiness?"

"Perhaps he had hopes that I should not proceed to that step, at leastso long as the place of his retreat should be unknown to me, and ofconsequence the event of my proceeding dubious. Perhaps he confided inhis own powers, which are far from contemptible, to construct aplausible tale, especially as he had taken care to have the firstimpression in his favour. After all, this protection, on your part, wasmerely reserved in case all other expedients failed. He does not appearto have had any other sentiment upon the subject, than that, if he weredefeated in his projects for placing himself beyond the reach ofjustice, it was better to have bespoken a place in your patronage thanto be destitute of every resource. "

Mr. Falkland having thus finished his evidence, called upon Robert, thevalet, to confirm the part of it which related to the day of the fire. 

Robert stated, that he happened to be coming through the library thatday, a few minutes after Mr. Falkland's being brought home by the sightof the fire; that he had found me standing there with every mark ofperturbation and fright; that he could not help stopping to notice it;that he had spoken to me two or three times before he could obtain ananswer; and that all he could get from me at last was, that I was themost miserable creature alive. 

He further said, that in the evening of the same day Mr. Falkland calledhim into the private apartment adjoining to the library, and bid himbring a hammer and some nails. He then showed him a trunk standing inthe apartment with its locks and fastening broken, and ordered him toobserve and remember what he saw, but not to mention it to any one. Robert did not at that time know what Mr. Falkland intended by thesedirections, which were given in a manner uncommonly solemn andsignificant; but he entertained no doubt, that the fastenings werebroken and wrenched by the application of a chisel or such-likeinstrument, with the intention of forcibly opening the trunk. 

Mr. Forester observed upon this evidence, that as much of it as relatedto the day of the fire seemed indeed to afford powerful reasons forsuspicion; and that the circumstances that had occurred since strangelyconcurred to fortify that suspicion. Meantime, that nothing proper tobe done might be omitted, he asked whether in my flight I had removed myboxes, to see whether by that means any trace could be discovered toconfirm the imputation. Mr. Falkland treated this suggestion slightly, saying, that if I were the thief, I had no doubt taken the precaution toobviate so palpable a means of detection. To this Mr. Forester onlyreplied, that conjecture, however skilfully formed, was not alwaysrealised in the actions and behaviour of mankind; and ordered that myboxes and trunks, if found, should be brought into the library. Ilistened to this suggestion with pleasure; and, uneasy and confounded asI was at the appearances combined against me, I trusted in this appealto give a new face to my cause. I was eager to declare the place wheremy property was deposited; and the servants, guided by my direction, presently produced what was enquired for. 

The two boxes that were first opened, contained nothing to confirm theaccusation against me; in the third were found a watch and severaljewels, that were immediately known to be the property of Mr. Falkland. The production of this seemingly decisive evidence excited emotions ofastonishment and concern; but no person's astonishment appeared to begreater than that of Mr. Falkland. That I should have left the stolengoods behind me, would of itself have appeared incredible; but when itwas considered what a secure place of concealment I had found for them, the wonder diminished; and Mr. Forester observed, that it was by nomeans impossible I might conceive it easier to obtain possession of themafterwards, than to remove them at the period of my precipitate flight. 

Here however I thought it necessary to interfere. I fervently urged myright to a fair and impartial construction. I asked Mr. Forester, whether it were probable, if I had stolen these things, that I shouldnot have contrived, at least to remove them along with me? And again, whether, if I had been conscious they would he found among my property, I should myself have indicated the place where I had concealed it?

The insinuation I conveyed against Mr. Forester's impartialityoverspread his whole countenance, for an instant, with the flush ofanger. 

"Impartiality, young man! Yes, be sure, from me you shall experience animpartial treatment! God send that may answer your purpose! Presentlyyou shall be heard at full in your own defence. 

"You expect us to believe you innocent, because you did not remove thesethings along with you. The money is removed. Where, sir, is that? Wecannot answer for the inconsistences and oversights of any human mind, and, least of all, if that mind should appear to be disturbed with theconsciousness of guilt. 

"You observe that it was by your own direction these boxes and trunkshave been found: that is indeed extraordinary. It appears little lessthan infatuation. But to what purpose appeal to probabilities andconjecture, in the face of incontestable facts? There, sir, are theboxes: you alone knew where they were to be found; you alone had thekeys: tell us then how this watch and these jewels came to be containedin them?"

I was silent. 

To the rest of the persons present I seemed to be merely the subject ofdetection; but in reality I was, of all the spectators, that individualwho was most at a loss to conceive, through every stage of the scene, what, would come next, and who listened to every word that was utteredwith the most uncontrollable amazement. Amazement however alternatelyyielded to indignation and horror. At first I could not refrain fromrepeatedly attempting to interrupt; but I was checked in these attemptsby Mr. Forester; and I presently felt how necessary it was to my futurepeace, that I should collect the whole energy of my mind to repel thecharge, and assert my innocence. 

Every thing being now produced that could be produced against me, Mr. Forester turned to me with a look of concern and pity, and told me thatnow was the time, if I chose to allege any thing in my defence. In replyto this invitation, I spoke nearly as follows:--

"I am innocent. It is in vain that circumstances are accumulated againstme; there is not a person upon earth less capable than I of the thingsof which I am accused. I appeal to my heart--I appeal to my looks--Iappeal to every sentiment my tongue ever uttered. "

I could perceive that the fervour with which I spoke made someimpression upon every one that heard me. But in a moment their eyes wereturned upon the property that lay before them, and their countenanceschanged. I proceeded:--

"One thing more I must aver;--Mr. Falkland is not deceived; he perfectlyknows that I am innocent. "

I had no sooner uttered these words, than an involuntary cry ofindignation burst from every person in the room. Mr. Forester turned tome with a look of extreme severity, and said--

"Young man, consider well what you are doing! It is the privilege of theparty accused to say whatever he thinks proper; and I will take carethat you shall enjoy that privilege in its utmost extent. But do youthink it will conduce in any respect to your benefit, to throw out suchinsolent and intolerable insinuations?"

"I thank you most sincerely, " replied I, "for your caution; but I wellknow what it is I am doing. I make this declaration, not merely becauseit is solemnly true, but because it is inseparably connected with myvindication. I am the party accused, and I shall be told that I am notto be believed in my own defence. I can produce no other witnesses of myinnocence; I therefore call upon Mr. Falkland to be my evidence. I askhim--

"Did you never boast to me in private of your power to ruin me? Did younever say that, if once I brought on myself the weight of yourdispleasure, my fall should be irreparable? Did you not tell me that, though I should prepare in that case a tale however plausible or howevertrue, you would take care that the whole world should execrate me as animpostor? Were not those your very words? Did you not add, that myinnocence should be of no service to me, and that you laughed at sofeeble a defence? I ask you further, --Did you not receive a letter fromme the morning of the day on which I departed, requesting your consentto my departure? Should I have done that if my flight had been that of athief? I challenge any man to reconcile the expressions of that letterwith this accusation. Should I have begun with stating that I hadconceived a desire to quit your service, if my desire and the reasonsfor it, had been of the nature that is now alleged? Should I have daredto ask for what reason I was thus subjected to an eternal penance?"

Saying this, I took out a copy of my letter, and laid it open upon thetable. 

Mr. Falkland returned no immediate answer to my interrogations. Mr. Forester turned to him, and said. 

"Well, sir, what is your reply to this challenge of your servant?"

Mr. Falkland answered, "Such a mode of defence scarcely calls for areply. But I answer, I held no such conversation; I never used suchwords; I received no such letter. Surely it is no sufficient refutationof a criminal charge, that the criminal repels what is alleged againsthim with volubility of speech, and intrepidity of manner. "

Mr. Forester then turned to me: "If, " said he, "you trust yourvindication to the plausibility of your tale, you must take care torender it consistent and complete. You have not told us what was thecause of the confusion and anxiety in which Robert professes to havefound you, why you were so impatient to quit the service of Mr. Falkland, or how you account for certain articles of his property beingfound in your possession. "

"All that, sir, " answered I, "is true. There are certain parts of mystory that I have not told. If they were told, they would not conduce tomy disadvantage, and they would make the present accusation appear stillmore astonishing. But I cannot, as yet at least, prevail upon myself totell them. Is it necessary to give any particular and precise reasonswhy I should wish to change the place of my residence? You all of youknow the unfortunate state of Mr. Falkland's mind. You know thesternness, reservedness, and distance of his manners. If I had no otherreasons, surely it would afford small presumption of criminality that Ishould wish to change his service for another. 

"The question of how these articles of Mr. Falkland's property came tobe found in my possession, is more material. It is a question I amwholly unable to answer. Their being found there, was at least asunexpected to me as to any one of the persons now present. I only knowthat, as I have the most perfect assurance of Mr. Falkland's beingconscious of my innocence--for, observe! I do not shrink from thatassertion; I reiterate it with new confidence--I therefore firmly andfrom my soul believe, that their being there is of Mr. Falkland'scontrivance. "

I no sooner said this, than I was again interrupted by an involuntaryexclamation from every one present. They looked at me with furiousglances, as if they could have torn me to pieces. I proceeded:--

"I have now answered every thing that is alleged against me. 

"Mr. Forester, you are a lover of justice; I conjure you not to violateit in my person. You are a man of penetration; look at me! do you seeany of the marks of guilt? Recollect all that has ever passed under yourobservation; is it compatible with a mind capable of what is now allegedagainst me? Could a real criminal have shown himself so unabashed, composed, and firm as I have now done?

"Fellow-servants! Mr. Falkland is a man of rank and fortune; he is yourmaster. I am a poor country lad, without a friend in the world. That isa ground of real difference to a certain extent; but it is not asufficient ground for the subversion of justice. Remember, that I am ina situation that is not to be trifled with; that a decision givenagainst me now, in a case in which I solemnly assure you I am innocent, will for ever deprive me of reputation and peace of mind, combine thewhole world in a league against me, and determine perhaps upon myliberty and my life. If you believe--if you see--if you know, that I aminnocent, speak for me. Do not suffer a pusillanimous timidity toprevent you from saving a fellow-creature from destruction, who does notdeserve to have a human being for his enemy. Why have we the power ofspeech, but to communicate our thoughts? I will never believe that aman, conscious of innocence, cannot make other men perceive that he hasthat thought. Do not you feel that my whole heart tells me. I am notguilty of what is imputed to me?

"To you, Mr. Falkland, I have nothing to say: I know you, and know thatyou are impenetrable. At the very moment that you are urging such odiouscharges against me, you admire my resolution and forbearance. But I havenothing to hope from you. You can look upon my ruin without pity orremorse. I am most unfortunate indeed in having to do with such anadversary. You oblige me to say ill things of you; but I appeal to yourown heart, whether my language is that of exaggeration or revenge. "

Every thing that could be alleged on either side being now concluded, Mr. Forester undertook to make some remarks upon the whole. 

"Williams, " said he, "the charge against you is heavy; the directevidence strong; the corroborating circumstances numerous and striking. I grant that you have shown considerable dexterity in your answers; butyou will learn, young man, to your cost, that dexterity, howeverpowerful it may be in certain cases, will avail little against thestubbornness of truth. It is fortunate for mankind that the empire oftalents has its limitations, and that it is not in the power ofingenuity to subvert the distinctions of right and wrong. Take my wordfor it, that the true merits of the case against you will be too strongfor sophistry to overturn; that justice will prevail, and impotentmalice be defeated. 

"To you, Mr. Falkland, society is obliged for having placed this blackaffair in its true light. Do not suffer the malignant aspersions of thecriminal to give you uneasiness. Depend upon it that they will be foundof no weight I have no doubt that your character, in the judgment ofevery person that has heard them, stands higher than ever. We feel foryour misfortune, in being obliged to hear such calumnies from a personwho has injured you so grossly. But you must be considered in thatrespect as a martyr in the public cause. The purity of your motives anddispositions is beyond the reach of malice; and truth and equity willnot fail to award, to your calumniator infamy, and to you the love andapprobation of mankind. 

"I have now told you, Williams, what I think of your case. But I have noright to assume to be your ultimate judge. Desperate as it appears tome, I will give you one piece of advice, as if I were retained as acounsel to assist you. Leave out of it whatever tends to thedisadvantage of Mr. Falkland. Defend yourself as well as you can, but donot attack your master. It is your business to create in those who hearyou a prepossession in your favour. But the recrimination you have beennow practising, will always create indignation. Dishonesty will admit ofsome palliation. The deliberate malice you have now been showing is athousand times more atrocious. It proves you to have the mind of ademon, rather than of a felon. Wherever you shall repeat it, those whohear you will pronounce you guilty upon that, even if the properevidence against you were glaringly defective. If therefore you wouldconsult your interest, which seems to be your only consideration, it isincumbent upon you by all means immediately to retract that. If youdesire to be believed honest, you must in the first place show that youhave a due sense of merit in others. You cannot better serve your causethan by begging pardon of your master, and doing homage to rectitude andworth, even when they are employed in vengeance against you. "

It is easy to conceive that my mind sustained an extreme shock from thedecision of Mr. Forester; but his call upon me to retract and humblemyself before my accuser penetrated my whole soul with indignation. Ianswered:--

"I have already told you I am innocent. I believe that I could notendure the effort of inventing a plausible defence, if it wereotherwise. You have just affirmed that it is not in the power ofingenuity to subvert the distinctions of right and wrong, and in thatvery instant I find them subverted. This is indeed to me a very awfulmoment. New to the world, I know nothing of its affairs but what hasreached me by rumour, or is recorded in books. I have come into it withall the ardour and confidence inseparable from my years. In everyfellow-being I expected to find a friend. I am unpractised in its wiles, and have even no acquaintance with its injustice. I have done nothing todeserve the animosity of mankind; but, if I may judge from the presentscene, I am henceforth to be deprived of the benefits of integrity andhonour. I am to forfeit the friendship of every one I have hithertoknown, and to be precluded from the power of acquiring that of others. Imust therefore be reduced to derive my satisfaction from myself. Dependupon it, I will not begin that career by dishonourable concessions. If Iam to despair of the good-will of other men, I will at least maintainthe independence of my own mind. Mr. Falkland is my implacable enemy. Whatever may be his merits in other respects, he is acting towards mewithout humanity, without remorse, and without principle. Do you think Iwill ever make submissions to a man by whom I am thus treated, that Iwill fall down at the feet of one who is to me a devil, or kiss the handthat is red with my blood?"

"In that respect, " answered Mr. Forester, "do as you shall thinkproper. I must confess that your firmness and consistency astonish me. They add something to what I had conceived of human powers. Perhaps youhave chosen the part which, all things considered, may serve yourpurpose best; though I think more moderation would be more conciliating. The exterior of innocence will, I grant, stagger the persons who mayhave the direction of your fate, but it will never be able to prevailagainst plain and incontrovertible facts. But I have done with you. Isee in you a new instance of that abuse which is so generally made oftalents, the admiration of an undiscerning public. I regard you withhorror. All that remains is, that I should discharge my duty, inconsigning you, as a monster of depravity, to the justice of yourcountry. "

"No, " rejoined Mr. Falkland, "to that I can never consent. I have put arestraint upon myself thus far, because it was right that evidence andenquiry should take their course. I have suppressed all my habits andsentiments, because it seemed due to the public that hypocrisy should beunmasked. But I can suffer this violence no longer. I have through mywhole life interfered to protect, not overbear, the sufferer; and I mustdo so now. I feel not the smallest resentment of his impotent attacksupon my character; I smile at their malice; and they make no diminutionin my benevolence to their author. Let him say what he pleases; hecannot hurt me. It was proper that he should be brought to public shame, that other people might not be deceived by him as we have been. Butthere is no necessity for proceeding further; and I must insist upon itthat he be permitted to depart wherever he pleases. I am sorry thatpublic interest affords so gloomy a prospect for his future happiness. "

"Mr. Falkland, " answered Mr. Forester, "these sentiments do honour toyour humanity; but I must not give way to them. They only serve to setin a stronger light the venom of this serpent, this monster ofingratitude, who first robs his benefactor, and then reviles him. Wretchthat you are, will nothing move you? Are you inaccessible to remorse?Are you not struck to the heart with the unmerited goodness of yourmaster? Vile calumniator! you are the abhorrence of nature, theopprobrium of the human species, and the earth can only be freed from aninsupportable burthen by your being exterminated! Recollect, sir, thatthis monster, at the very moment that you are exercising such unexampledforbearance in his behalf, has the presumption to charge you withprosecuting a crime of which you know him to be innocent, nay, withhaving conveyed the pretended stolen goods among his property, for theexpress purpose of ruining him. By this unexampled villainy, he makes ityour duty to free the world from such a pest, and your interest to admitno relaxing in your pursuit of him, lest the world should be persuadedby your clemency to credit his vile insinuations. "

"I care not for the consequences, " replied Mr. Falkland; "I will obeythe dictates of my own mind. I will never lend my assistance to thereforming mankind by axes and gibbets. I am sure things will never be asthey ought, till honour, and not law, be the dictator of mankind, tillvice be taught to shrink before the resistless might of inborn dignity, and not before the cold formality of statutes. If my calumniator wereworthy of my resentment, I would chastise him with my own sword, and notthat of the magistrate; but in the present case I smile at his malice, and resolve to spare him, as the generous lord of the forest spares theinsect that would disturb his repose. "

"The language you now hold, " said Mr. Forester, "is that of romance, andnot of reason. Yet I cannot but be struck with the contrast exhibitedbefore me, of the magnanimity of virtue, and the obstinate impenetrableinjustice of guilt. While your mind overflows with goodness, nothing cantouch the heart of this thrice-refined villain. I shall never forgivemyself for having once been entrapped by his detestable arts. This is notime for us to settle the question between chivalry and law. I shalltherefore simply insist as a magistrate, having taken the evidence inthis felony, upon my right and duty of following the course of justice, and committing the accused to the county jail. "

After some further contest Mr. Falkland, finding Mr. Forester obstinateand impracticable, withdrew his opposition. Accordingly a proper officerwas summoned from the neighbouring village, a mittimus made out, and oneof Mr. Falkland's carriages prepared to conduct me to the place ofcustody. It will easily be imagined that this sudden reverse was verypainfully felt by me. I looked round on the servants who had been thespectators of my examination, but not one of them, either by word orgesture, expressed compassion for my calamity. The robbery of which Iwas accused appeared to them atrocious from its magnitude; and whateversparks of compassion might otherwise have sprung up in their ingenuousand undisciplined minds, were totally obliterated by indignation at mysupposed profligacy in recriminating upon their worthy and excellentmaster. My fate being already determined, and one of the servantsdespatched for the officer, Mr. Forester and Mr. Falkland withdrew, andleft me in the custody of two others. 

One of these was the son of a farmer at no great distance, who had beenin habits of long-established intimacy with my late father. I waswilling accurately to discover the state of mind of those who had beenwitnesses of this scene, and who had had some previous opportunity ofobserving my character and manners. I, therefore, endeavoured to open aconversation with him. "Well, my good Thomas, " said I, in a queruloustone, and with a hesitating manner, "am I not a most miserablecreature?"

"Do not speak to me, Master Williams! You have given me a shock that Ishall not get the better of for one while. You were hatched by a hen, asthe saying is, but you came of the spawn of a cockatrice. I am glad tomy heart that honest farmer Williams is dead; your villainy would elsehave made him curse the day that ever he was born. "

"Thomas, I am innocent' I swear by the great God that shall judge meanother day, I am innocent!"

"Pray, do not swear! for goodness' sake, do not swear! your poor soul isdamned enough without that. For your sake, lad, I will never take anybody's word, nor trust to appearances, tho' it should be an angel. Lordbless us! how smoothly you palavered it over, for all the world, as ifyou had been as fair as a new-born babe! But it will not do; you willnever be able to persuade people that black is white. For my own part, Ihave done with you. I loved you yesterday, all one as if you had been myown brother. To-day I love you so well, that I would go ten miles withall the pleasure in life to see you hanged. "

"Good God, Thomas! have you the heart? What a change! I call God towitness, I have done nothing to deserve it! What a world do we live in!"

"Hold your tongue, boy! It makes my very heart sick to hear you! Iwould not lie a night under the same roof with you for all the world! Ishould expect the house to fall and crush such wickedness! I admire thatthe earth does not open and swallow you alive! It is poison so much asto look at you! If you go on at this hardened rate, I believe from mysoul that the people you talk to will tear you to pieces, and you willnever live to come to the gallows. Oh, yes, you do well to pityyourself; poor tender thing! that spit venom all round you like a toad, and leave the very ground upon which you crawl infected with yourslime. "

Finding the person with whom I talked thus impenetrable to all I couldsay, and considering that the advantage to be gained was small, even ifI could overcome his prepossession, I took his advice, and was silent. It was not much longer before every thing was prepared for my departure, and I was conducted to the same prison which had so lately enclosed thewretched and innocent Hawkinses. They too had been the victims of Mr. Falkland. He exhibited, upon a contracted scale indeed, but in which thetruth of delineation was faithfully sustained, a copy of what monarchsare, who reckon among the instruments of their power prisons of state. 

CHAPTER XI. 

For my own part, I had never seen a prison, and, like the majority of mybrethren, had given myself little concern to enquire what was thecondition of those who committed offence against, or became obnoxious tosuspicion from, the community. Oh, how enviable is the most totteringshed under which the labourer retires to rest, compared with theresidence of these walls!

To me every thing was new, --the massy doors, the resounding locks, thegloomy passages, the grated windows, and the characteristic looks of thekeepers, accustomed to reject every petition, and to steel their heartsagainst feeling and pity. Curiosity, and a sense of my situation, induced me to fix my eyes on the faces of these men; but in a fewminutes I drew them away with unconquerable loathing. It is impossibleto describe the sort of squalidness and filth with which these mansionsare distinguished. I have seen dirty faces in dirty apartments, whichhave nevertheless borne the impression of health, and spoke carelessnessand levity rather than distress. But the dirt of a prison speaks sadnessto the heart, and appears to be already in a state of putridity andinfection. 

I was detained for more than an hour in the apartment of the keeper, oneturnkey after another coming in, that they might make themselvesfamiliar with my person. As I was already considered as guilty of felonyto a considerable amount, I underwent a rigorous search, and they tookfrom me a penknife, a pair of scissars, and that part of my money whichwas in gold. It was debated whether or not these should be sealed up, tobe returned to me, as they said, as soon as I should be acquitted; andhad I not displayed an unexpected firmness of manner and vigour ofexpostulation, such was probably the conduct that would have beenpursued. Having undergone these ceremonies, I was thrust into aday-room, in which all the persons then under confinement for felonywere assembled, to the number of eleven. Each of them was too muchengaged in his own reflections, to take notice of me. Of these, two wereimprisoned for horse-stealing, and three for having stolen a sheep, onefor shop-lifting, one for coining, two for highway-robbery, and two forburglary. 

The horse-stealers were engaged in a game at cards, which was presentlyinterrupted by a difference of opinion, attended with greatvociferation, --they calling upon one and another to decide it, to nopurpose; one paying no attention to their summons, and another leavingthem in the midst of their story, being no longer able to endure his owninternal anguish, in the midst of their mummery. 

It is a custom among thieves to constitute a sort of mock tribunal oftheir own body, from whose decision every one is informed whether heshall be acquitted, respited, or pardoned, as well as respecting thesupposed most skilful way of conducting his defence. One of thehousebreakers, who had already passed this ordeal, and was stalking upand down the room with a forced bravery, exclaimed to his companion, that he was as rich as the Duke of Bedford himself. He had five guineasand a half, which was as much as he could possibly spend in the courseof the ensuing month; and what happened after that, it was Jack Ketch'sbusiness to see to, not his. As he uttered these words, he threw himselfabruptly upon a bench that was near him, and seemed to be asleep in amoment. But his sleep was uneasy and disturbed, his breathing was hard, and, at intervals, had rather the nature of a groan. A young fellow fromthe other side of the room came softly to the place where he lay, with alarge knife in his hand: and pressed the back of it with such violenceupon his neck, the head hanging over the side of the bench, that it wasnot till after several efforts that he was able to rise. "Oh, Jack!"cried this manual jester, "I had almost done your business for you!" Theother expressed no marks of resentment, but sullenly answered, "Damnyou, why did not you take the edge? It would have been the best thingyou have done this many a day!"[B]

[Footnote B: An incident exactly similar to this was witnessed by afriend of the author, a few years since, in a visit to the prison ofNewgate. ]

The case of one of the persons committed for highway-robbery was not alittle extraordinary. He was a common soldier of a most engagingphysiognomy, and two-and-twenty years of age. The prosecutor, who hadbeen robbed one evening, as he returned late from the alehouse, of thesum of three shillings, swore positively to his person. The character ofthe prisoner was such as has seldom been equalled. He had been ardent inthe pursuit of intellectual cultivation, and was accustomed to draw hisfavourite amusement from the works of Virgil and Horace. The humblenessof his situation, combined with his ardour for literature, only servedto give an inexpressible heightening to the interestingness of hischaracter. He was plain and unaffected; he assumed nothing; he wascapable, when occasion demanded, of firmness, but, in his ordinarydeportment, he seemed unarmed and unresisting, unsuspicious of guile inothers, as he was totally free from guile in himself. His integrity wasproverbially great. In one instance he had been intrusted by a lady toconvey a sum of a thousand pounds to a person at some miles distance: inanother, he was employed by a gentleman, during his absence, in the careof his house and furniture, to the value of at least five times thatsum. His habits of thinking were strictly his own, full of justice, simplicity, and wisdom. He from time to time earned money of hisofficers, by his peculiar excellence in furbishing arms; but he declinedoffers that had been made him to become a Serjeant or a corporal, saying that he did not want money, and that in a new situation he shouldhave less leisure for study. He was equally constant in refusingpresents that were offered him by persons who had been struck with hismerit; not that he was under the influence of false delicacy and pride, but that he had no inclination to accept that, the want of which he didnot feel to be an evil. This man died while I was in prison. I receivedhis last breath. [C]

[Footnote C: A story extremely similar to this is to be found in theNewgate Calendar, vol. I. P. 382. ]

The whole day I was obliged to spend in the company of these men, someof them having really committed the actions laid to their charge, otherswhom their ill fortune had rendered the victims of suspicion. The wholewas a scene of misery, such as nothing short of actual observation cansuggest to the mind. Some were noisy and obstreperous, endeavouring by afalse bravery to keep at bay the remembrance of their condition; whileothers, incapable even of this effort, had the torment of their thoughtsaggravated by the perpetual noise and confusion that prevailed aroundthem. In the faces of those who assumed the most courage, you mighttrace the furrows of anxious care and in the midst of their labouredhilarity dreadful ideas would ever and anon intrude, convulsing theirfeatures, and working every line into an expression of the keenestagony. To these men the sun brought no return of joy. Day after dayrolled on, but their state was immutable. Existence was to them a sceneof invariable melancholy; every moment was a moment of anguish; yet didthey wish to prolong that moment, fearful that the coming period wouldbring a severer fate. They thought of the past with insupportablerepentance, each man contented to give his right hand to have again thechoice of that peace and liberty, which he had unthinkingly barteredaway. We talk of instruments of torture; Englishmen take credit tothemselves for having banished the use of them from their happy shore!Alas! he that has observed the secrets of a prison, well knows thatthere is more torture in the lingering existence of a criminal, in thesilent intolerable minutes that he spends, than in the tangible miseryof whips and racks!

Such were our days. At sunset our jailors appeared, and ordered each manto come away, and be locked into his dungeon. It was a bitteraggravation of our fate, to be under the arbitrary control of thesefellows. They felt no man's sorrow; they were of all men least capableof any sort of feeling. They had a barbarous and sullen pleasure inissuing their detested mandates, and observing the mournful reluctancewith which they were obeyed. Whatever they directed, it was in vain toexpostulate; fetters, and bread and water, were the sure consequences ofresistance. Their tyranny had no other limit than their own caprice. Towhom shall the unfortunate felon appeal? To what purpose complain, whenhis complaints are sure to be received with incredulity? A tale ofmutiny and necessary precaution is the unfailing refuge of the keeper, and this tale is an everlasting bar against redress. 

Our dungeons were cells, 7-1/2 feet by 6-1/2, below the surface of theground, damp, without window, light, or air, except from a few holesworked for that purpose in the door. In some of these miserablereceptacles three persons were put to sleep together. [D] I was fortunateenough to have one to myself. It was now the approach of winter. Wewere not allowed to have candles, and, as I have already said, werethrust in here at sunset, and not liberated till the returning day. Thiswas our situation for fourteen or fifteen hours out of thefour-and-twenty. I had never been accustomed to sleep more than six orseven hours, and my inclination to sleep was now less than ever. Thuswas I reduced to spend half my day in this dreary abode, and in completedarkness. This was no trifling aggravation of my lot. 

[Footnote D: See Howard on Prisons. ]

Among my melancholy reflections I tasked my memory, and counted over thedoors, the locks, the bolts, the chains, the massy walls, and gratedwindows, that were between me and liberty. "These, " said I, "are theengines that tyranny sits down in cold and serious meditation to invent. This is the empire that man exercises over man. Thus is a being, formedto expatiate, to act, to smile, and enjoy, restricted and benumbed. Howgreat must be his depravity or heedlessness, who vindicates this schemefor changing health and gaiety and serenity, into the wanness of adungeon, and the deep furrows of agony and despair!"

"Thank God, " exclaims the Englishman, "we have no Bastile! Thank God, with us no man can be punished without a crime!" Unthinking wretch! Isthat a country of liberty, where thousands languish in dungeons andfetters? Go, go, ignorant fool! and visit the scenes of our prisons!witness their unwholesomeness, their filth, the tyranny of theirgovernors, the misery of their inmates! After that, show me the manshameless enough to triumph, and say, England has no Bastile! Is thereany charge so frivolous, upon which men are not consigned to thosedetested abodes? Is there any villainy that is not practised by justicesand prosecutors? But against all this perhaps you have been told thereis redress. Yes; a redress, that it is the consummation of insult somuch as to name! Where shall the poor wretch reduced to the lastdespair, to whom acquittal perhaps comes just time enough to save himfrom perishing, --where shall this man find leisure, and much less money, to fee counsel and officers, and purchase the tedious dear-bought remedyof the law? No; he is too happy to leave his dungeon, and the memory ofhis dungeon, behind him; and the same tyranny and wanton oppressionbecome the inheritance of his successor. 

For myself, I looked round upon my walls, and forward upon the prematuredeath I had too much reason to expect: I consulted my own heart, thatwhispered nothing but innocence; and I said, "This is society. This isthe object, the distribution of justice, which is the end of humanreason. For this sages have toiled, and midnight oil has been wasted. This!"

The reader will forgive this digression from the immediate subject of mystory. If it should be said these are general remarks, let it beremembered that they are the dear-bought, result of experience. It isfrom the fulness of a bursting heart that reproach thus flows to my pen. These are not the declamations of a man desirous to be eloquent. I havefelt the iron of slavery grating upon my soul. 

I believed that misery, more pure than that which I now endured, hadnever fallen to the lot of a human being. I recollected withastonishment my puerile eagerness to be brought to the test, and have myinnocence examined. I execrated it, as the vilest and most insufferablepedantry. I exclaimed, in the bitterness of my heart, "Of what value isa fair fame? It is the jewel of men formed to be amused with baubles. Without it, I might have had serenity of heart and cheerfulness ofoccupation, peace, and liberty; why should I consign my happiness toother men's arbitration? But, if a fair fame were of the mostinexpressible value, is this the method which common sense wouldprescribe to retrieve it? The language which these institutions hold outto the unfortunate is, 'Come, and be shut out from the light of day; bethe associate of those whom society has marked out for her abhorrence, be the slave of jailers, be loaded with fetters; thus shall you becleared from every unworthy aspersion, and restored to reputation andhonour!' This is the consolation she affords to those whom malignity orfolly, private pique or unfounded positiveness, have, without thesmallest foundation, loaded with calumny. " For myself, I felt my owninnocence; and I soon found, upon enquiry, that three fourths of thosewho are regularly subjected to a similar treatment, are persons whom, even with all the superciliousness and precipitation of our courts ofjustice, no evidence can be found sufficient to convict. How slenderthen must be that man's portion of information and discernment, who iswilling to commit his character and welfare to such guardianship!

But my case was even worse than this. I intimately felt that a trial, such as our institutions have hitherto been able to make it, is only theworthy sequel of such a beginning. What chance was there after thepurgation I was now suffering, that I should come out acquitted at last?What probability was there that the trial I had endured in the house ofMr. Falkland was not just as fair as any that might be expected tofollow? No; I anticipated my own condemnation. 

Thus was I cut off, for ever, from all that existence has tobestow--from all the high hopes I had so often conceived--from all thefuture excellence my soul so much delighted to imagine, --to spend a fewweeks in a miserable prison, and then to perish by the hand of thepublic executioner. No language can do justice to the indignant andsoul-sickening loathing that these ideas excited. My resentment was notrestricted to my prosecutor, but extended itself to the whole machine ofsociety. I could never believe that all this was the fair result ofinstitutions inseparable from the general good. I regarded the wholehuman species as so many hangmen and torturers; I considered them asconfederated to tear me to pieces; and this wide scene of inexorablepersecution inflicted upon me inexpressible agony. I looked on this sideand on that: I was innocent; I had a right to expect assistance; butevery heart was steeled against me; every hand was ready to lend itsforce to make my ruin secure. No man that has not felt, in his own mostmomentous concerns, justice, eternal truth, unalterable equity engagedin his behalf, and on the other side brute force, impenetrableobstinacy, and unfeeling insolence, can imagine the sensations that thenpassed through my mind. I saw treachery triumphant and enthroned; I sawthe sinews of innocence crumbled into dust by the gripe of almightyguilt. 

What relief had I from these sensations? Was it relief, that I spent theday in the midst of profligacy and execrations--that I saw reflectedfrom every countenance agonies only inferior to my own? He that wouldform a lively idea of the regions of the damned, need only to witness, for six hours, a scene to which I was confined for many months. Not forone hour could I withdraw myself from this complexity of horrors, ortake refuge in the calmness of meditation. Air, exercise, series, contrast, those grand enliveners of the human frame, I was for everdebarred from, by the inexorable tyranny under which I was fallen. Nordid I find the solitude of my nightly dungeon less insupportable. Itsonly furniture was the straw that served me for my repose. It wasnarrow, damp, and unwholesome. The slumbers of a mind, wearied, likemine, with the most detestable uniformity, to whom neither amusement noroccupation ever offered themselves to beguile the painful hours, wereshort, disturbed, and unrefreshing. My sleeping, still more than mywaking thoughts, were full of perplexity, deformity, and disorder. Tothese slumbers succeeded the hours which, by the regulations of ourprison, I was obliged, though awake, to spend in solitary and cheerlessdarkness. Here I had neither books nor pens, nor any thing upon which toengage my attention; all was a sightless blank. How was a mind, activeand indefatigable like mine, to endure this misery? I could not sink itin lethargy; I could nor forget my woes: they haunted me withunintermitted and demoniac malice. Cruel, inexorable policy of humanaffairs, that condemns a man to torture like this; that sanctions it, and knows not what is done under its sanction; that is too supine andunfeeling to enquire into these petty details; that calls this theordeal of innocence, and the protector of freedom! A thousand times Icould have dashed my brains against the walls of my dungeon; a thousandtimes I longed for death, and wished, with inexpressible ardour, for anend to what I suffered; a thousand times I meditated suicide, andruminated, in the bitterness of my soul, upon the different means ofescaping from the load of existence. What had I to do with life? I hadseen enough to make me regard it with detestation. Why should I wait thelingering process of legal despotism, and not dare so much as to die, but when and how its instruments decreed? Still some inexplicablesuggestion withheld my hand. I clung with desperate fondness to thisshadow of existence, its mysterious attractions, and its hopelessprospects. 

CHAPTER XII. 

Such were the reflections that haunted the first days of myimprisonment, in consequence of which they were spent in perpetualanguish. But, after a time, nature, wearied with distress, would nolonger stoop to the burthen; thought, which is incessantly varying, introduced a series of reflections totally different. 

My fortitude revived. I had always been accustomed to cheerfulness, goodhumour, and serenity; and this habit now returned to visit me at thebottom of my dungeon. No sooner did my contemplations take this turn, than I saw the reasonableness and possibility of tranquillity and peace;and my mind whispered to me the propriety of showing, in this forlorncondition, that I was superior to all my persecutors. Blessed state ofinnocence and self-approbation! The sunshine of conscious integritypierced through all the barriers of my cell, and spoke ten thousandtimes more joy to my heart, than the accumulated splendours of natureand art can communicate to the slaves of vice. 

I found out the secret of employing my mind. I said, "I am shut up forhalf the day in total darkness, without any external source ofamusement; the other half I spend in the midst of noise, turbulence, and, confusion. What then? Can I not draw amusement from the stores ofmy own mind? Is it not freighted with various knowledge? Have I not beenemployed from my infancy in gratifying an insatiable curiosity? Whenshould I derive benefit from these superior advantages, if not atpresent?" Accordingly I tasked the stores of my memory, and my powers ofinvention. I amused myself with recollecting the history of my life. Bydegrees I called to mind a number of minute circumstances, which, butfor this exercise, would have been for ever forgotten. I repassed in mythoughts whole conversations, I recollected their subjects, theirarrangement, their incidents, frequently their very words. I mused uponthese ideas, till I was totally absorbed in thought. I repeated them, till my mind glowed with enthusiasm. I had my different employments, fitted for the solitude of the night, in which I could give full scopeto the impulses of my mind; and for the uproar of the day, in which mychief object was, to be insensible to the disorder with which I wassurrounded. 

By degrees I quitted my own story, and employed myself in imaginaryadventures. I figured to myself every situation in which I could beplaced, and conceived the conduct to be observed in each. Thus scenes ofinsult and danger, of tenderness and oppression, became familiar to me. In fancy I often passed the awful hour of dissolving nature. In some ofmy reveries I boiled with impetuous indignation, and in others patientlycollected the whole force of my mind for some fearful encounter. Icultivated the powers of oratory suited to these different states, andimproved more in eloquence in the solitude of my dungeon, than perhaps Ishould have done in the busiest and most crowded scenes. 

At length I proceeded to as regular a disposition of my time, as the manin his study, who passes from mathematics to poetry, and from poetry tothe law of nations, in the different parts of each single day; and I asseldom infringed upon my plan. Nor were my subjects of disquisition lessnumerous than his. I went over, by the assistance of memory only, aconsiderable part of Euclid during my confinement, and revived, dayafter day, the series of facts and incidents in some of the mostcelebrated historians. I became myself a poet; and, while I describedthe sentiments cherished by the view of natural objects, recorded thecharacters and passions of men, and partook with a burning zeal in thegenerosity of their determinations, I eluded the squalid solitude of mydungeon, and wandered in idea through all the varieties of humansociety. I easily found expedients, such as the mind seems always torequire, and which books and pens supply to the man at large, to recordfrom time to time the progress that had been made. 

While I was thus employed, I reflected with exultation upon the degreein which man is independent of the smiles and frowns of fortune. I wasbeyond her reach, for I could fall no lower. To an ordinary eye I mightseem destitute and miserable, but in reality I wanted for nothing. Myfare was coarse; but I was in health. My dungeon was noisome; but I feltno inconvenience. I was shut up from the usual means of exercise andair; but I found the method of exercising myself even to perspiration inmy dungeon. I had no power of withdrawing my person from a disgustfulsociety, in the most cheerful and valuable part of the day; but I soonbrought to perfection the art of withdrawing my thoughts, and saw andheard the people about me, for just as short a time, and as seldom, as Ipleased. 

Such is man in himself considered; so simple his nature; so few hiswants. How different from the man of artificial society! Palaces arebuilt for his reception, a thousand vehicles provided for his exercise, provinces are ransacked for the gratification of his appetite, and thewhole world traversed to supply him with apparel and furniture. Thusvast is his expenditure, and the purchase slavery. He is dependent on athousand accidents for tranquillity and health, and his body and soulare at the devotion of whoever will satisfy his imperious cravings. 

In addition to the disadvantages of my present situation, I was reservedfor an ignominious death. What then? Every man must die. No man knowshow soon. It surely is not worse to encounter the king of terrors, inhealth, and with every advantage for the collection of fortitude, thanto encounter him, already half subdued by sickness and suffering. I wasresolved at least fully to possess the days I had to live; and this ispeculiarly in the power of the man who preserves his health to the lastmoment of his existence. Why should I suffer my mind to be invaded byunavailing regrets? Every sentiment of vanity, or rather of independenceand justice within me, instigated me to say to my persecutor, "You maycut off my existence, but you cannot disturb my serenity. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

In the midst of these reflections, another thought, which had not beforestruck me, occurred to my mind. "I exult, " said I, "and reasonably, overthe impotence of my persecutor. Is not that impotence greater than Ihave yet imagined? I say, he may cut off my existence, but cannotdisturb my serenity. It is true: my mind, the clearness of my spirit, the firmness of my temper, are beyond his reach; is not my life equallyso, if I please? What are the material obstacles, that man neversubdued? What is the undertaking so arduous, that by some has not beenaccomplished? And if by others, why not by me? Had they stronger motivesthan I? Was existence more variously endeared to them? or had they morenumerous methods by which to animate and adorn it? Many of those whohave exerted most perseverance and intrepidity, were obviously myinferiors in that respect. Why should not I be as daring as they?Adamant and steel have a ductility like water, to a mind sufficientlybold and contemplative. The mind is master of itself; and is endowedwith powers that might enable it to laugh at the tyrant's vigilance. " Ipassed and repassed these ideas in my mind; and, heated with thecontemplation, I said, "No, I will not die!"

My reading, in early youth, had been extremely miscellaneous. I had readof housebreakers, to whom locks and bolts were a jest, and who, vain oftheir art, exhibited the experiment of entering a house the moststrongly barricaded, with as little noise, and almost as little trouble, as other men would lift up a latch. There is nothing so interesting tothe juvenile mind, as the wonderful; there is no power that it soeagerly covets, as that of astonishing spectators by its miraculousexertions. Mind appeared, to my untutored reflections, vague, airy, andunfettered, the susceptible perceiver of reasons, but never intended bynature to be the slave of force. Why should it be in the power of man toovertake and hold me by violence? Why, when I choose to withdraw myself, should I not be capable of eluding the most vigilant search? Theselimbs, and this trunk, are a cumbrous and unfortunate load for the powerof thinking to drag along with it; but why should not the power ofthinking be able to lighten the load, till it shall be no longerfelt?--These early modes of reflection were by no means indifferent tomy present enquiries. 

Our next-door neighbour at my father's house had been a carpenter. Freshfrom the sort of reading I have mentioned, I was eager to examine histools, their powers and their uses. This carpenter was a man of strongand vigorous mind; and, his faculties having been chiefly confined tothe range of his profession, he was fertile in experiments, andingenious in reasoning upon these particular topics. I thereforeobtained from him considerable satisfaction; and, my mind being set inaction, I sometimes even improved upon the hints he furnished. Hisconversation was particularly agreeable to me; I at first worked withhim sometimes for my amusement, and afterwards occasionally for a shorttime as his journeyman. I was constitutionally vigorous; and, by theexperience thus attained, I added to the abstract possession of power, the skill of applying it, when I pleased, in such a manner as that nopart should be inefficient. 

It is a strange, but no uncommon feature in the human mind, that thevery resource of which we stand in greatest need in a criticalsituation, though already accumulated, it may be, by preceding industry, fails to present itself at the time when it should be called intoaction. Thus my mind had passed through two very different stages sincemy imprisonment, before this means of liberation suggested itself. Myfaculties were overwhelmed in the first instance, and raised to a pitchof enthusiasm in the second; while in both I took it for granted in amanner, that I must passively submit to the good pleasure of mypersecutors. 

During the period in which my mind had been thus undecided, and when Ihad been little more than a month in durance, the assizes, which wereheld twice a year in the town in which I was a prisoner, came on. Uponthis occasion my case was not brought forward, but was suffered to standover six months longer. It would have been just the same, if I had hadas strong reason to expect acquittal as I had conviction. If I had beenapprehended upon the most frivolous reasons upon which any justice ofthe peace ever thought proper to commit a naked beggar for trial, I muststill have waited about two hundred and seventeen days before myinnocence could be cleared. So imperfect are the effects of the boastedlaws of a country, whose legislators hold their assembly from four tosix months in every year! I could never discover with certainty, whetherthis delay were owing to any interference on the part of my prosecutor, or whether it fell out in the regular administration of justice, whichis too solemn and dignified to accommodate itself to the rights orbenefit of an insignificant individual. 

But this was not the only incident that occurred to me during myconfinement, for which I could find no satisfactory solution. It wasnearly at the same time, that the keeper began to alter his behaviour tome. He sent for me one morning into the part of the building which wasappropriated for his own use, and, after some hesitation, told me he wassorry my accommodations had been so indifferent, and asked whether Ishould like to have a chamber in his family? I was struck with theunexpectedness of this question, and desired to know whether any bodyhad employed him to ask it. No, he replied; but, now the assizes wereover, he had fewer felons on his hands, and more time to look about him. He believed I was a good kind of a young man, and he had taken a sort ofa liking to me. I fixed my eye upon his countenance as he said this. Icould discover none of the usual symptoms of kindness; he appeared to meto be acting a part, unnatural, and that sat with awkwardness upon him. He went on however to offer me the liberty of eating at his table;which, if I chose it, he said, would make no difference to him, and heshould not think of charging me any thing for it. He had always indeedas much upon his hands as one person could see to; but his wife and hisdaughter Peggy would be woundily pleased to hear a person of learningtalk, as he understood I was; and perhaps I might not feel myselfunpleasantly circumstanced in their company. 

I reflected on this proposal, and had little doubt, notwithstanding whatthe keeper had affirmed to the contrary, that it did not proceed fromany spontaneous humanity in him, but that he had, to speak the languageof persons of his cast, good reasons for what he did. I busied myself inconjectures as to who could be the author of this sort of indulgence andattention. The two most likely persons were Mr. Falkland and Mr. Forester. The latter I knew to be a man austere and inexorable towardsthose whom he deemed vicious. He piqued himself upon being insensible tothose softer emotions, which, he believed, answered no other purposethan to seduce us from our duty. Mr. Falkland, on the contrary, was aman of the acutest sensibility; hence arose his pleasures and his pains, his virtues and his vices. Though he were the bitterest enemy to whom Icould possibly be exposed, and though no sentiments of humanity coulddivert or control the bent of his mind, I yet persuaded myself, that hewas more likely than his kinsman, to visit in idea the scene of mydungeon, and to feel impelled to alleviate my sufferings. 

This conjecture was by no means calculated to serve as balm to my mind. My thoughts were full of irritation against my persecutor. How could Ithink kindly of a man, in competition with the gratification of whoseruling passion my good name or my life was deemed of no consideration? Isaw him crushing the one, and bringing the other into jeopardy, with aquietness and composure on his part that I could not recollect withouthorror. I knew not what were his plans respecting me. I knew not whetherhe troubled himself so much as to form a barren wish for thepreservation of one whose future prospects he had so iniquitouslytarnished. I had hitherto been silent as to my principal topic ofrecrimination. But I was by no means certain, that I should consent togo out of the world in silence, the victim of this man's obduracy andart. In every view I felt my heart ulcerated with a sense of hisinjustice; and my very soul spurned these pitiful indulgences, at a timethat he was grinding me into dust with the inexorableness of hisvengeance. 

I was influenced by these sentiments in my reply to the jailor; and Ifound a secret pleasure in pronouncing them in all their bitterness. Iviewed him with a sarcastic smile, and said, I was glad to find him of asudden become so humane: I was not however without some penetration asto the humanity of a jailor, and could guess at the circumstances bywhich it was produced. But he might tell his employer, that his careswere fruitless: I would accept no favours from a man that held a halterabout my neck; and had courage enough to endure the worst both in timeto come and now. --The jailor looked at me with astonishment, and turningupon his heel, exclaimed, "Well done, my cock! You have not had yourlearning for nothing, I see. You are set upon not dying dunghill. Butthat is to come, lad; you had better by half keep your courage till youshall find it wanted. "

The assizes, which passed over without influence to me, produced a greatrevolution among my fellow-prisoners. I lived long enough in the jail towitness a general mutation of its inhabitants. One of the housebreakers(the rival of the Duke of Bedford), and the coiner, were hanged. Twomore were cast for transportation, and the rest acquitted. Thetransports remained with us; and, though the prison was thus lightenedof nine of its inhabitants, there were, at the next half-yearly periodof assizes, as many persons on the felons' side, within three, as I hadfound on my first arrival. 

The soldier, whose story I have already recorded, died on the evening ofthe very day on which the judges arrived, of a disease the consequenceof his confinement. Such was the justice, that resulted from the laws ofhis country to an individual who would have been the ornament of anyage; one who, of all the men I ever knew, was perhaps the kindest, ofthe most feeling heart, of the most engaging and unaffected manners, andthe most unblemished life. The name of this man was Brightwel. Were itpossible for my pen to consecrate him to never-dying fame, I couldundertake no task more grateful to my heart. His judgment waspenetrating and manly, totally unmixed with imbecility and confusion, while at the same time there was such an uncontending frankness in hiscountenance, that a superficial observer would have supposed he musthave been the prey of the first plausible knavery that was practisedagainst him. Great reason have I to remember him with affection! He wasthe most ardent, I had almost said the last, of my friends. Nor did Iremain in this respect in his debt. There was indeed a greatcongeniality, if I may presume to say so, in our characters, except thatI cannot pretend to rival the originality and self-created vigour of hismind, or to compare with, what the world has scarcely surpassed, thecorrectness and untainted purity of his conduct. He heard my story, asfar as I thought proper to disclose it, with interest; he examined itwith sincere impartiality; and if, at first, any doubt remained upon hismind, a frequent observation of me in my most unguarded moments taughthim in no long time to place an unreserved confidence in my innocence. 

He talked of the injustice of which we were mutual victims, withoutbitterness; and delighted to believe that the time would come, when thepossibility of such intolerable oppression would be extirpated. Butthis, he said, was a happiness reserved for posterity; it was too latefor us to reap the benefit of it. It was some consolation to him, thathe could not tell the period in his past life, which the best judgmentof which he was capable would teach him to spend better. He could say, with as much reason as most men, he had discharged his duty. But heforesaw that he should not survive his present calamity. This was hisprediction, while yet in health. He might be said, in a certain sense, to have a broken heart. But, if that phrase were in any way applicableto him, sure never was despair more calm, more full of resignation andserenity. 

At no time in the whole course of my adventures was I exposed to a shockmore severe, than I received from this man's death. The circumstances ofhis fate presented themselves to my mind in their full complication ofiniquity. From him, and the execrations with which I loaded thegovernment that could be the instrument of his tragedy, I turned tomyself. I beheld the catastrophe of Brightwel with envy. A thousandtimes I longed that my corse had lain in death, instead of his. I wasonly reserved, as I persuaded myself, for unutterable woe. In a few dayshe would have been acquitted; his liberty, his reputation restored;mankind perhaps, struck with the injustice he had suffered, would haveshown themselves eager to balance his misfortunes, and obliterate hisdisgrace. But this man died; and I remained alive! I, who, though notless wrongfully treated than he, had no hope of reparation, must bemarked as long as I lived for a villain, and in my death probably heldup to the scorn and detestation of my species!

Such were some of the immediate reflections which the fate of thisunfortunate martyr produced in my mind. Yet my intercourse withBrightwel was not, in the review, without its portion of comfort. Isaid, "This man has seen through the veil of calumny that overshades me:he has understood, and has loved me. Why should I despair? May I notmeet hereafter with men ingenuous like him, who shall do me justice, andsympathise with my calamity? With that consolation I will be satisfied. I will rest in the arms of friendship, and forget the malignity of theworld. Henceforth I will be contented with tranquil obscurity, with thecultivation of sentiment and wisdom, and the exercise of benevolencewithin a narrow circle. " It was thus that my mind became excited to theproject I was about to undertake. 

I had no sooner meditated the idea of an escape, than I determined uponthe following method of facilitating the preparations for it. Iundertook to ingratiate myself with my keeper. In the world I havegenerally found such persons as had been acquainted with the outline ofmy story, regarding me with a sort of loathing and abhorrence, whichmade them avoid me with as much care as if I had been spotted with theplague. The idea of my having first robbed my patron, and thenendeavouring to clear myself by charging him with subornation againstme, placed me in a class distinct from, and infinitely more guilty thanthat of common felons. But this man was too good a master of hisprofession, to entertain aversion against a fellow-creature upon thatscore. He considered the persons committed to his custody, merely as somany human bodies, for whom he was responsible that they should beforthcoming in time and place; and the difference of innocence and guilthe looked down upon as an affair beneath his attention. I had nottherefore the prejudices to encounter in recommending myself to him, that I have found so peculiarly obstinate in other cases. Add to which, the same motive, whatever it was, that had made him so profuse in hisoffers a little before, had probably its influence on the presentoccasion. 

I informed him of my skill in the profession of a joiner, and offered tomake him half a dozen handsome chairs, if he would facilitate myobtaining the tools necessary for carrying on my profession in mypresent confinement; for, without his consent previously obtained, itwould have been in vain for me to expect that I could quietly exert anindustry of this kind, even if my existence had depended upon it. Helooked at me first, as asking himself what he was to understand by thisnovel proposal; and then, his countenance most graciously relaxing, said, he was glad I was come off a little of my high notions and mybuckram, and he would see what he could do. Two days after, he signifiedhis compliance. He said that, as to the matter of the present I hadoffered him, he thought nothing of that; I might do as I pleased in it;but I might depend upon every civility from him that he could show withsafety to himself, if so be as, when he was civil, I did not offer asecond time for to snap and take him up short. 

Having thus gained my preliminary, I gradually accumulated tools ofvarious sorts--gimlets, piercers, chisels, _et cetera_. I immediatelyset myself to work. The nights were long, and the sordid eagerness of mykeeper, notwithstanding his ostentatious generosity, was great; Itherefore petitioned for, and was indulged with, a bit of candle, that Imight amuse myself for an hour or two with my work after I was locked upin my dungeon. I did not however by any means apply constantly to thework I had undertaken, and my jailor betrayed various tokens ofimpatience. Perhaps he was afraid I should not have finished it, beforeI was hanged. I however insisted upon working at my leisure as Ipleased; and this he did not venture expressly to dispute. In additionto the advantages thus obtained, I procured secretly from Miss Peggy, who now and then came into the jail to make her observations of theprisoners, and who seemed to have conceived some partiality for myperson, the implement of an iron crow. 

In these proceedings it is easy to trace the vice and duplicity thatmust be expected to grow out of injustice. I know not whether my readerswill pardon the sinister advantage I extracted from the mysteriousconcessions of my keeper. But I must acknowledge my weakness in thatrespect; I am writing my adventures, and not my apology; and I was notprepared to maintain the unvaried sincerity of my manners, at theexpense of a speedy close of my existence. 

My plan was now digested. I believed that, by means of the crow, I couldeasily, and without much noise, force the door of my dungeon from itshinges, or if not, that I could, in case of necessity, cut away thelock. This door led into a narrow passage, bounded on one side by therange of dungeons, and on the other by the jailor's and turnkeys'apartments, through which was the usual entrance from the street. Thisoutlet I dared not attempt, for fear of disturbing the persons close towhose very door I should in that case have found it necessary to pass. Idetermined therefore upon another door at the further end of thepassage, which was well barricaded, and which led to a sort of garden inthe occupation of the keeper. This garden I had never entered, but I hadhad an opportunity of observing it from the window of the felons'day-room, which looked that way, the room itself being immediately overthe range of dungeons. I perceived that it was bounded by a wall ofconsiderable height, which I was told by my fellow-prisoners was theextremity of the jail on that side, and beyond which was a back-lane ofsome length, that terminated in the skirts of the town. Upon an accurateobservation, and much reflection upon the subject, I found I should beable, if once I got into the garden, with my gimlets and piercersinserted at proper distances to make a sort of ladder, by means of whichI could clear the wall, and once more take possession of the sweets ofliberty. I preferred this wall to that which immediately skirted mydungeon, on the other side of which was a populous street. 

I suffered about two days to elapse from the period at which I hadthoroughly digested my project, and then in the very middle of the nightbegan to set about its execution. The first door was attended withconsiderable difficulty; but at length this obstacle was happilyremoved. The second door was fastened on the inside. I was thereforeable with perfect ease to push back the bolts. But the lock, which ofcourse was depended upon for the principal security, and was thereforestrong, was double-shot, and the key taken away. I endeavoured with mychisel to force back the bolt of the lock, but to no purpose. I thenunscrewed the box of the lock; and, that being taken away, the door wasno longer opposed to my wishes. 

Thus far I had proceeded with the happiest success; but close on theother side of the door there was a kennel with a large mastiff dog, ofwhich I had not the smallest previous knowledge. Though I stepped alongin the most careful manner, this animal was disturbed, and began tobark. I was extremely disconcerted, but immediately applied myself tosoothe the animal, in which I presently succeeded. I then returned alongthe passage to listen whether any body had been disturbed by the noiseof the dog; resolved, if that had been the case, that I would return tomy dungeon, and endeavour to replace every thing in its former state. But the whole appeared perfectly quiet, and I was encouraged to proceedin my operation. 

I now got to the wall, and had nearly gained half the ascent, when Iheard a voice at the garden-door, crying, "Holloa! who is there? whoopened the door?" The man received no answer, and the night was too darkfor him to distinguish objects at any distance. He therefore returned, as I judged, into the house for a light. Meantime the dog, understandingthe key in which these interrogations were uttered, began barking againmore violently than ever. I had now no possibility of retreat, and I wasnot without hopes that I might yet accomplish my object, and clear thewall. Meanwhile a second man came out, while the other was getting hislantern, and by the time I had got to the top of the wall was able toperceive me. He immediately set up a shout, and threw a large stone, which grazed me in its flight. Alarmed at my situation, I was obligedto descend on the other side without taking the necessary precautions, and in my fall nearly dislocated my ankle. 

There was a door in the wall, of which I was not previously apprised;and, this being opened, the two men with the lantern were on the otherside in an instant. They had then nothing to do but to run along thelane to the place from which I had descended. I endeavoured to riseafter my fall; but the pain was so intense, that I was scarcely able tostand, and, after having limped a few paces, I twisted my foot under me, and fell down again. I had now no remedy, and quietly suffered myself tobe retaken. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

I was conducted to the keeper's room for that night, and the two men satup with me. I was accosted with many interrogatories, to which I gavelittle answer, but complained of the hurt in my leg. To this I couldobtain no reply, except "Curse you, my lad! if that be all, we will giveyou some ointment for that; we will anoint it with a little cold iron. "They were indeed excessively sulky with me, for having broken theirnight's rest, and given them all this trouble. In the morning they wereas good as their word, fixing a pair of fetters upon both my legs, regardless of the ankle which was now swelled to a considerable size, and then fastening me, with a padlock, to a staple in the floor of mydungeon. I expostulated with warmth upon this treatment, and told them, that I was a man upon whom the law as yet had passed no censure, and whotherefore, in the eye of the law, was innocent. But they bid me keepsuch fudge for people who knew no better; they knew what they did, andwould answer it to any court in England. 

The pain of the fetter was intolerable. I endeavoured in various ways torelieve it, and even privily to free my leg; but the more it wasswelled, the more was this rendered impossible. I then resolved to bearit with patience: still, the longer it continued, the worse it grew. After two days and two nights, I entreated the turnkey to go and ask thesurgeon, who usually attended the prison, to look at it, for, if itcontinued longer as it was, I was convinced it would mortify. But heglared surlily at me, and said, "Damn my blood! I should like to seethat day. To die of a mortification is too good an end for such arascal!" At the time that he thus addressed me, the whole mass of myblood was already fevered by the anguish I had undergone, my patiencewas wholly exhausted, and I was silly enough to be irritated beyondbearing, by his impertinence and vulgarity: "Look, you, Mr. Turnkey, "said I, "there is one thing that such fellows as you are set over usfor, and another thing that you are not. You are to take care we do notescape; but it is no part of your office to call us names and abuse us. If I were not chained to the floor, you dare as well eat your fingers asuse such language; and, take my word for it, you shall yet live torepent of your insolence. "

While I thus spoke, the man stared at me with astonishment. He was solittle accustomed to such retorts, that, at first, he could scarcelybelieve his ears; and such was the firmness of my manner, that he seemedto forget for a moment that I was not at large. But, as soon as he hadtime to recollect himself, he did not deign to be angry. His facerelaxed into a smile of contempt; he snapped his fingers at me; and, turning upon his heel, exclaimed, "Well said, my cock! crow away! Have acare you do not burst!" and, as he shut the door upon me, mimicked thevoice of the animal he mentioned. 

This rejoinder brought me to myself in a moment, and showed me theimpotence of the resentment I was expressing. But, though he thus put anend to the violence of my speech, the torture of my body continued asgreat as ever. I was determined to change my mode of attack. The sameturnkey returned in a few minutes; and, as he approached me, to put downsome food he had brought, I slipped a shilling into his hand, saying atthe same time, "My good fellow, for God's sake, go to the surgeon; I amsure you do not wish me to perish for want of assistance. " The fellowput the shilling into his pocket, looked hard at me, and then with onenod of his head, and without uttering a single word, went away. Thesurgeon presently after made his appearance; and, finding the part in ahigh state of inflammation, ordered certain applications, and gaveperemptory directions that the fetter should not be replaced upon thatleg, till a cure had been effected. It was a full month before the legwas perfectly healed, and made equally strong and flexible with theother. 

The condition in which I was now placed, was totally different from thatwhich had preceded this attempt. I was chained all day in my dungeon, with no other mitigation, except that the door was regularly opened fora few hours in an afternoon, at which time some of the prisonersoccasionally came and spoke to me, particularly one, who, though hecould ill replace my benevolent Brightwel, was not deficient inexcellent qualities. This was no other than the individual whom Mr. Falkland had, some months before, dismissed upon an accusation ofmurder. His courage was gone, his garb was squalid, and the comelinessand clearness of his countenance was utterly obliterated. He also wasinnocent, worthy, brave, and benevolent. He was, I believe, afterwardsacquitted, and turned loose, to wander a desolate and perturbed spectrethrough the world. My manual labours were now at an end; my dungeon wassearched every night, and every kind of tool carefully kept from me. Thestraw, which had been hitherto allowed me, was removed, under pretencethat it was adapted for concealment; and the only conveniences withwhich I was indulged, were a chair and a blanket. 

A prospect of some alleviation in no long time opened upon me; but thismy usual ill fortune rendered abortive. The keeper once more made hisappearance, and with his former constitutional and ambiguous humanity. He pretended to be surprised at my want of every accommodation. Hereprehended in strong terms my attempt to escape, and observed, thatthere must be an end of civility from people in his situation, ifgentlemen, after all, would not know when they were well. It wasnecessary, in cases the like of this, to let the law take its course;and it would be ridiculous in me to complain, if, after a regular trial, things should go hard with me. He was desirous of being in every respectmy friend, if I would let him. In the midst of this circumlocution andpreamble, he was called away from me, for something relating to thebusiness of his office. In the mean time I ruminated upon his overtures;and, detesting as I did the source from which I conceived them to flow, I could not help reflecting how far it would be possible to extract fromthem the means of escape. But my meditations in this case were vain. The keeper returned no more during the remainder of that day, and, onthe next, an incident occurred which put an end to all expectations fromhis kindness. 

An active mind, which has once been forced into any particular train, can scarcely be persuaded to desert it as hopeless. I had studied mychains, during the extreme anguish that I endured from the pressure ofthe fetter upon the ankle which had been sprained; and though, from theswelling and acute sensibility of the part, I had found all attempts atrelief, in that instance, impracticable, I obtained, from the coolnessof my investigation, another and apparently superior advantage. Duringthe night, my dungeon was in a complete state of darkness; but, when thedoor was open, the case was somewhat different. The passage indeed intowhich it opened, was so narrow, and the opposite dead wall so near, thatit was but a glimmering and melancholy light that entered my apartment, even at full noon, and when the door was at its widest extent. But myeyes, after a practice of two or three weeks, accommodated themselves tothis circumstance, and I learned to distinguish the minutest object. Oneday, as I was alternately meditating and examining the objects aroundme, I chanced to observe a nail trodden into the mud-floor at no greatdistance from me. I immediately conceived the desire of possessingmyself of this implement; but, for fear of surprise, people passingperpetually to and fro, I contented myself, for the present, withremarking its situation so accurately, that I might easily find it againin the dark. Accordingly, as soon as my door was shut, I seized uponthis new treasure, and, having contrived to fashion it to my purpose, found that I could unlock with it the padlock that fastened me to thestaple in the floor. This I regarded as no inconsiderable advantage, separately from the use I might derive from it in relation to myprincipal object. My chain permitted me to move only about eighteeninches to the right or left; and, having borne this confinement forseveral weeks, my very heart leaped at the pitiful consolation of beingable to range, without constraint, the miserable coop in which I wasimmured. This incident had occurred several days previously to the lastvisit of my keeper. 

From this time it had been my constant practice to liberate myself everynight, and not to replace things in their former situation till I awokein the morning, and expected shortly to perceive the entrance of theturnkey. Security breeds negligence. On the morning succeeding myconference with the jailor, it so happened, whether I overslept myself, or the turnkey went his round earlier than usual, that I was roused frommy sleep by the noise he made in opening the cell next to my own; andthough I exerted the utmost diligence, yet having to grope for mymaterials in the dark, I was unable to fasten the chain to the staple, before he entered, as usual, with his lantern. He was extremelysurprised to find me disengaged, and immediately summoned the principalkeeper. I was questioned respecting my method of proceeding; and, as Ibelieved concealment could lead to nothing but a severer search, and amore accurate watch, I readily acquainted them with the exact truth. Theillustrious personage, whose functions it was to control the inhabitantsof these walls, was, by this last instance, completely exasperatedagainst me. Artifice and fair speaking were at an end. His eyes sparkledwith fury; he exclaimed, that he was now convinced of the folly ofshowing kindness to rascals, the scum of the earth, such as I was; and, damn him, if any body should catch him at that again towards any one. Ihad cured him effectually! He was astonished that the laws had notprovided some terrible retaliation for thieves that attempted to deceivetheir jailors. Hanging was a thousand times too good for me!

Having vented his indignation, he proceeded to give such orders as theunited instigations of anger and alarm suggested to his mind. Myapartment was changed. I was conducted to a room called the strong room, the door of which opened into the middle cell of the range of dungeons. It was under-ground, as they were, and had also the day-room for felons, already described, immediately over it. It was spacious and dreary. Thedoor had not been opened for years; the air was putrid; and the wallshung round with damps and mildew. The fetters, the padlock, and thestaple, were employed, as in the former case, in addition to which theyput on me a pair of handcuffs. For my first provision, the keeper sentme nothing but a bit of bread, mouldy and black, and some dirty andstinking water. I know not indeed whether this is to be regarded asgratuitous tyranny on the part of the jailor; the law having providentlydirected, in certain cases, that the water to be administered to theprisoners shall be taken from "the next sink or puddle nearest to thejail. "[E] It was further ordered, that one of the turnkeys should sleepin the cell that formed a sort of anti-chamber to my apartment. Thoughevery convenience was provided, to render this chamber fit for thereception of a personage of a dignity so superior to the felon he wasappointed to guard, he expressed much dissatisfaction at the mandate:but there was no alternative. 

[Footnote E: In the case of the _peine forte et dure_. See State Trials, Vol. I. _anno_ 1615. ]

The situation to which I was thus removed was, apparently, the mostundesirable that could be imagined but I was not discouraged; I had forsome time learned not to judge by appearances. The apartment was darkand unwholesome; but I had acquired the secret of counteracting theseinfluences. My door was kept continually shut, and the other prisonerswere debarred access to me; but if the intercourse of our fellow-men hasits pleasure, solitude, on the other hand, is not without itsadvantages. In solitude we can pursue our own thoughts undisturbed; andI was able to call up at will the most pleasing avocations. Besideswhich, to one who meditated such designs as now filled my mind, solitudehad peculiar recommendations. I was scarcely left to myself, before Itried an experiment, the idea of which I conceived, while they werefixing my handcuffs; and, with my teeth only, disengaged myself fromthis restraint. The hours at which I was visited by the keepers wereregular, and I took care to be provided for them. Add to which, I had anarrow grated window near the ceiling, about nine inches inperpendicular, and a foot and a half horizontally, which, though small, admitted a much stronger light than that to which I had been accustomedfor several weeks. Thus circumstanced, I scarcely ever found myself intotal darkness, and was better provided against surprises than I hadbeen in my preceding situation. Such were the sentiments which thischange of abode immediately suggested. 

I had been a very little time removed, when I received an unexpectedvisit from Thomas, Mr. Falkland's footman, whom I have already mentionedin the course of my narrative. A servant of Mr. Forester happened tocome to the town where I was imprisoned, a few weeks before, while I wasconfined with the hurt in my ankle, and had called in to see me. Theaccount he gave of what he observed had been the source of many anuneasy sensation to Thomas. The former visit was a matter of merecuriosity; but Thomas was of the better order of servants. He wasconsiderably struck at the sight of me. Though my mind was now serene, and my health sufficiently good, yet the floridness of my complexion wasgone, and there was a rudeness in my physiognomy, the consequence ofhardship and fortitude, extremely unlike the sleekness of my betterdays. Thomas looked alternately in my face, at my hands, and my feet;and then fetched a deep sigh. After a pause, "Lord bless us!" said he, in a voice in which commiseration wassufficiently perceptible, "is this you?"

"Why not, Thomas? You knew I was sent to prison, did not you?"

"Prison! and must people in prison be shackled and bound of thatfashion?--and where do you lay of nights?"

"Here. "

"Here? Why there is no bed!"

"No, Thomas, I am not allowed a bed. I had straw formerly, but that istaken away. "

"And do they take off them there things of nights?"

"No; I am expected to sleep just as you see. "

"Sleep! Why I thought this was a Christian country; but this usage istoo bad for a dog. "

"You must not say so, Thomas; it is what the wisdom of government hasthought fit to provide. "

"Zounds, how I have been deceived! They told me what a fine thing it wasto be an Englishman, and about liberty and property, and all that there;and I find it is all a flam. Lord, what fools we be! Things are doneunder our very noses, and we know nothing of the matter; and a parcel offellows with grave faces swear to us, that such things never happen butin France, and other countries the like of that. Why, you ha'n't beentried, ha' you?"

"No. "

"And what signifies being tried, when they do worse than hang a man, andall beforehand? Well, master Williams, you have been very wicked to besure, and I thought it would have done me good to see you hanged. But, Ido not know how it is, one's heart melts, and pity comes over one, if wetake time to cool. I know that ought not to be; but, damn it, when Italked of your being hanged, I did not think of your suffering all thisinto the bargain. "

Soon after this conversation Thomas left me. The idea of the longconnection of our families rushed upon his memory, and he felt more formy sufferings, at the moment, than I did for myself. In the afternoon Iwas surprised to see him again. He said that he could not get thethought of me out of his mind, and therefore he hoped I would not bedispleased at his coming once more to take leave of me. I could perceivethat he had something upon his mind, which he did not know how todischarge. One of the turnkeys had each time come into the room withhim, and continued as long as he staid. Upon some avocation however--anoise, I believe, in the passage--the turnkey went as far as the door tosatisfy his curiosity; and Thomas, watching the opportunity, slippedinto my hand a chisel, a file, and a saw, exclaiming at the same timewith a sorrowful tone, "I know I am doing wrong; but, if they hang metoo, I cannot help it; I cannot do no other. For Christ's sake, get outof this place; I cannot bear the thoughts of it!" I received theimplements with great joy, and thrust them into my bosom; and, as soonas he was gone, concealed them in the rushes of my chair. For himselfhe had accomplished the object for which he came, and presently afterbade me farewell. 

The next day, the keepers, I know not for what reason, were more thanusually industrious in their search, saying, though without assigningany ground for their suspicion, that they were sure I had some tool inmy possession that I ought not; but the depository I had chosen escapedthem. 

I waited from this time the greater part of a week, that I might havethe benefit of a bright moonlight. It was necessary that I should workin the night; it was necessary that my operations should be performedbetween the last visit of the keepers at night and their first in themorning, that is, between nine in the evening and seven. In my dungeon, as I have already said, I passed fourteen or sixteen hours of thefour-and-twenty undisturbed; but since I had acquired a character formechanical ingenuity, a particular exception with respect to me was madefrom the general rules of the prison. 

It was ten o'clock when I entered on my undertaking. The room in which Iwas confined was secured with a double door. This was totallysuperfluous for the purpose of my detention, since there was a sentinelplanted on the outside. But it was very fortunate for my plan; becausethese doors prevented the easy communication of sound, and afforded metolerable satisfaction that, with a little care in my mode ofproceeding, I might be secure against the danger of being overheard. Ifirst took off my handcuffs. I then filed through my fetters; and nextperformed the same service to three of the iron bars that secured mywindow, to which I climbed, partly by the assistance of my chair, andpartly by means of certain irregularities in the wall. All this was thework of more than two hours. When the bars were filed through, I easilyforced them a little from the perpendicular, and then drew them, one byone, out of the wall, into which they were sunk about three inchesperfectly straight, and without any precaution to prevent their beingremoved. But the space thus obtained was by no means wide enough toadmit the passing of my body. I therefore applied myself, partly with mychisel, and partly with one of the iron bars, to the loosening thebrick-work; and when I had thus disengaged four or five bricks, I gotdown and piled them upon the floor. This operation I repeated three orfour times The space was now sufficient for my purpose: and, havingcrept through the opening, I stepped upon a shed on the outside. 

I was now in a kind of rude area between two dead walls, that south ofthe felons' day-room (the windows of which were at the east end) and thewall of the prison. But I had not, as formerly, any instruments toassist me in scaling the wall, which was of considerable height. Therewas, of consequence, no resource for me but that of effecting apracticable breach in the lower part of the wall, which was of nocontemptible strength, being of stone on the outside, with a facing ofbrick within. The rooms for the debtors were at right angles with thebuilding from which I had just escaped; and, as the night was extremelybright, I was in momentary danger, particularly in case of the leastnoise, of being discovered by them, several of their windows commandingthis area. Thus circumstanced, I determined to make the shed answer thepurpose of concealment. It was locked; but, with the broken link of myfetters, which I had had the precaution to bring with me, I found nogreat difficulty in opening the lock. I had now got a sufficient meansof hiding my person while I proceeded in my work, attended with noother disadvantage than that of being obliged to leave the door, throughwhich I had thus broken, a little open for the sake of light. After sometime, I had removed a considerable part of the brick-work of the outerwall; but, when I came to the stone, I found the undertaking infinitelymore difficult. The mortar which bound together the building was, bylength of time, nearly petrified, and appeared to my first efforts onesolid rock of the hardest adamant. I had now been six hours incessantlyengaged in incredible labour: my chisel broke in the first attempt uponthis new obstacle; and between fatigue already endured, and theseemingly invincible difficulty before me, I concluded that I mustremain where I was, and gave up the idea of further effort as useless. At the same time the moon, whose light had till now been of the greatestuse to me, set, and I was left in total darkness. 

After a respite of ten minutes however, I returned to the attack withnew vigour. It could not be less than two hours before the first stonewas loosened from the edifice. In one hour more, the space wassufficient to admit of my escape. The pile of bricks I had left in thestrong room was considerable. But it was a mole-hill compared with theruins I had forced from the outer wall. I am fully assured that the workI had thus performed would have been to a common labourer, with everyadvantage of tools, the business of two or three days. But mydifficulties, instead of being ended, seemed to be only begun. The daybroke, before I had completed the opening, and in ten minutes more thekeepers would probably enter my apartment, and perceive the devastationI had left. The lane, which connected the side of the prison throughwhich I had escaped with the adjacent country, was formed chiefly bytwo dead walls, with here and there a stable, a few warehouses, and somemean habitations, tenanted by the lower order of people. My bestsecurity lay in clearing the town as soon as possible, and dependingupon the open country for protection. My arms were intolerably swelledand bruised with my labour, and my strength seemed wholly exhausted withfatigue. Speed I was nearly unable to exert for any continuance; and, ifI could, with the enemy so close at my heels, speed would too probablyhave been useless. It appeared as if I were now in almost the samesituation as that in which I had been placed five or six weeks before, in which, after having completed my escape, I was obliged to yieldmyself up, without resistance, to my pursuers. I was not howeverdisabled as then; I was capable of exertion, to what precise extent Icould not ascertain; and I was well aware, that every instance in whichI should fail of my purpose would contribute to enhance the difficultyof any future attempt. Such were the considerations that presentedthemselves in relation to my escape; and, even if that were effected, Ihad to reckon among my difficulties, that, at the time I quitted myprison, I was destitute of every resource, and had not a shillingremaining in the world. 

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. 

 * * * * *

VOLUME THE THIRD. 

CHAPTER I. 

I passed along the lane I have described, without perceiving or beingobserved by a human being. The doors were shut, the window-shuttersclosed, and all was still as night. I reached the extremity of the laneunmolested. My pursuers, if they immediately followed, would know thatthe likelihood was small, of my having in the interval found shelter inthis place; and would proceed without hesitation, as I on my part wasobliged to do, from the end nearest to the prison to its furthesttermination. 

The face of the country, in the spot to which I had thus opened myself apassage, was rude and uncultivated. It was overgrown with brushwood andfurze; the soil was for the most part of a loose sand; and the surfaceextremely irregular. I climbed a small eminence, and could perceive, notvery remote in the distance, a few cottages thinly scattered. Thisprospect did not altogether please me; I conceived that my safety would, for the present, be extremely assisted, by keeping myself from the viewof any human being. 

I therefore came down again into the valley, and upon a carefulexamination perceived that it was interspersed with cavities, somedeeper than others, but all of them so shallow, as neither to be capableof hiding a man, nor of exciting suspicion as places of possibleconcealment. Meanwhile the day had but just begun to dawn; the morningwas lowering and drizzly; and, though the depth of these caverns was ofcourse well known to the neighbouring inhabitants, the shadows they castwere so black and impenetrable, as might well have produced widerexpectations in the mind of a stranger. Poor therefore as was theprotection they were able to afford, I thought it right to have recourseto it for the moment, as the best the emergency would supply. It was formy life; and, the greater was the jeopardy to which it was exposed, themore dear did that life seem to become to my affections. The recess Ichose, as most secure, was within little more than a hundred yards ofthe end of the lane, and the extreme buildings of the town. 

I had not stood up in this manner two minutes, before I heard the soundof feet, and presently saw the ordinary turnkey and another pass theplace of my retreat. They were so close to me that, if I had stretchedout my hand, I believe I could have caught hold of their clothes, without so much as changing my posture. As no part of the overhangingearth intervened between me and them, I could see them entire, thoughthe deepness of the shade rendered me almost completely invisible. Iheard them say to each other, in tones of vehement asperity, "Curse therascal! which way can he be gone?" The reply was, "Damn him! I wish wehad him but safe once again!"--"Never fear!" rejoined the first; "hecannot have above half a mile the start of us. " They were presently outof hearing; for, as to sight, I dared not advance my body, so much as aninch, to look after them, lest I should be discovered by my pursuers insome other direction. From the very short time that elapsed, between myescape and the appearance of these men, I concluded that they had madetheir way through the same outlet as I had done, it being impossiblethat they could have had time to come, from the gate of the prison, andso round a considerable part of the town, as they must otherwise havedone. 

I was so alarmed at this instance of diligence on the part of the enemy, that, for some time, I scarcely ventured to proceed an inch from myplace of concealment, or almost to change my posture. The morning, whichhad been bleak and drizzly, was succeeded by a day of heavy andincessant rain; and the gloomy state of the air and surrounding objects, together with the extreme nearness of my prison, and a total want offood, caused me to pass the hours in no very agreeable sensations. Thisinclemency of the weather however, which generated a feeling ofstillness and solitude, encouraged me by degrees to change my retreat, for another of the same nature, out of somewhat greater security. Ihovered with little variation about a single spot, as long as the suncontinued above the horizon. 

Towards evening, the clouds began to disperse, and the moon shone, as onthe preceding night, in full brightness. I had perceived no humancreature during the whole day, except in the instance already mentioned. This had perhaps been owing to the nature of the day; at all events Iconsidered it as too hazardous an experiment, to venture from myhiding-place in so clear and fine a night. I was therefore obliged towait for the setting of this luminary, which was not till near fiveo'clock in the morning. My only relief during this interval was to allowmyself to sink to the bottom of my cavern, it being scarcely possiblefor me to continue any longer on my feet. Here I fell into aninterrupted and unrefreshing doze, the consequence of a laborious night, and a tedious, melancholy day; though I rather sought to avoid sleep, which, cooperating with the coldness of the season, would tend more toinjury than advantage. 

The period of darkness, which I had determined to use for the purpose ofremoving to a greater distance from my prison, was, in its wholeduration, something less than three hours. When I rose from my seat, Iwas weak with hunger and fatigue, and, which was worse, I seemed, between the dampness of the preceding day and the sharp, clear frost ofthe night, to have lost the command of my limbs. I stood up and shookmyself; I leaned against the side of the hill, impelling in differentdirections the muscles of the extremities; and at length recovered insome degree the sense of feeling. This operation was attended with anincredible aching pain, and required no common share of resolution toencounter and prosecute it. Having quitted my retreat, I at firstadvanced with weak and tottering steps; but, as I proceeded, increasedmy pace. The barren heath, which reached to the edge of the town, was, at least on this side, without a path; but the stars shone, and, guidingmyself by them, I determined to steer as far as possible from thehateful scene where I had been so long confined. The line I pursued wasof irregular surface, sometimes obliging me to climb a steep ascent, andat others to go down into a dark and impenetrable dell. I was oftencompelled, by the dangerousness of the way, to deviate considerably fromthe direction I wished to pursue. In the mean time I advanced with asmuch rapidity as these and similar obstacles would permit me to do. Theswiftness of the motion, and the thinness of the air, restored to me myalacrity. I forgot the inconveniences under which I laboured, and mymind became lively, spirited, and enthusiastic. 

I had now reached the border of the heath, and entered upon what isusually termed the forest. Strange as it may seem, it is neverthelesstrue, that, in this conjuncture, exhausted with hunger, destitute of allprovision for the future, and surrounded with the most alarming dangers, my mind suddenly became glowing, animated, and cheerful. I thought that, by this time, the most formidable difficulties of my undertaking weresurmounted; and I could not believe that, after having effected so much, I should find any thing invincible in what remained to be done. Irecollected the confinement I had undergone, and the fate that hadimpended over me, with horror. Never did man feel more vividly, than Ifelt at that moment, the sweets of liberty. Never did man morestrenuously prefer poverty with independence, to the artificialallurements of a life of slavery. I stretched forth my arms withrapture; I clapped my hands one upon the other, and exclaimed, "Ah, thisis indeed to be a man! These wrists were lately galled with fetters; allmy motions, whether I rose up or sat down, were echoed to with theclanking of chains; I was tied down like a wild beast, and could notmove but in a circle of a few feet in circumference. Now I can run fleetas a greyhound, and leap like a young roe upon the mountains. Oh, God!(if God there be that condescends to record the lonely beatings of ananxious heart) thou only canst tell with what delight a prisoner, justbroke forth from his dungeon, hugs the blessings of new-found liberty!Sacred and indescribable moment, when man regains his rights! But latelyI held my life in jeopardy, because one man was unprincipled enough toassert what he knew to be false; I was destined to suffer an early andinexorable death from the hands of others, because none of them hadpenetration enough to distinguish from falsehood, what I uttered withthe entire conviction of a full-fraught heart! Strange, that men, fromage to age, should consent to hold their lives at the breath of another, merely that each in his turn may have a power of acting the tyrantaccording to law! Oh, God! give me poverty! shower upon me all theimaginary hardships of human life! I will receive them all withthankfulness. Turn me a prey to the wild beasts of the desert, so I benever again the victim of man, dressed in the gore-dripping robes ofauthority! Suffer me at least to call life, and the pursuits of life, myown! Let me hold it at the mercy of the elements, of the hunger ofbeasts, or the revenge of barbarians, but not of the cold-bloodedprudence of monopolists and kings!"--How enviable was the enthusiasmwhich could thus furnish me with energy, in the midst of hunger, poverty, and universal desertion!

I had now walked at least six miles. At first I carefully avoided thehabitations that lay in my way, and feared to be seen by any of thepersons to whom they belonged, lest it should in any degree furnish aclue to the researches of my pursuers. As I went forward, I conceived itmight be proper to relax a part of my precaution. At this time Iperceived several persons coming out of a thicket close to me. Iimmediately considered this circumstance as rather favourable than thecontrary. It was necessary for me to avoid entering any of the towns andvillages in the vicinity. It was however full time that I should procurefor myself some species of refreshment, and by no means improbable thatthese men might be in some way assisting to me in that respect. In mysituation it appeared to me indifferent what might be their employmentor profession. I bad little to apprehend from thieves, and I believedthat they, as well as honest men, could not fail to have some compassionfor a person under my circumstances. I therefore rather threw myself intheir way than avoided them. 

They were thieves. One of the company cried out, "Who goes there?stand!" I accosted them; "Gentlemen, " said I, "I am a poor traveller, almost"--While I spoke, they came round me; and he that had firsthailed me, said, "Damn me, tip us none of your palaver; we have heardthat story of a poor traveller any time these five years. Come, downwith your dust! let us see what you have got!"--"Sir, " I replied, "Ihave not a shilling in the world, and am more than half starvedbeside. "--"Not a shilling!" answered my assailant, "what, I suppose youare as poor as a thief? But, if you have not money, you have clothes, and those you must resign. "

"My clothes!" rejoined I with indignation, "you cannot desire such athing. Is it not enough that I am pennyless? I have been all night uponthe open heath. It is now the second day that I have not eaten a morselof bread. Would you strip me naked to the weather in the midst of thisdepopulated forest? No, no, you are men! The same hatred of oppression, that arms you against the insolence of wealth, will teach you to relievethose who are perishing like me. For God's sake, give me food! do notstrip me of the comforts I still possess!"

While I uttered this apostrophe, the unpremeditated eloquence ofsentiment, I could perceive by their gestures, though the day had notyet begun to dawn, that the feelings of one or two of the companyappeared to take my part. The man, who had already undertaken to betheir spokesman, perceived the same thing; and, excited either by thebrutality of his temper or the love of command, hastened to anticipatethe disgrace of a defeat. He brushed suddenly up to me, and by mainforce pushed me several feet from the place where I stood. The shock Ireceived drove me upon a second of the gang, not one of those who hadlistened to my expostulation; and he repeated the brutality. Myindignation was strongly excited by this treatment; and, after beingthrust backward and forward two or three times in this manner, I brokethrough my assailants, and turned round to defend myself. The first thatadvanced within my reach, was my original enemy. In the present moment Ilistened to nothing but the dictates of passion, and I laid him at hislength on the earth. I was immediately assailed with sticks andbludgeons on all sides, and presently received a blow that almostdeprived me of my senses. The man I had knocked down was now upon hisfeet again, and aimed a stroke at me with a cutlass as I fell, whichtook place in a deep wound upon my neck and shoulder. He was going torepeat his blow. The two who had seemed to waver at first in theiranimosity, afterwards appeared to me to join in the attack, urged eitherby animal sympathy or the spirit of imitation. One of them however, as Iafterwards, understood seized the arm of the man who was going to strikeme a second time with his cutlass, and who would otherwise probably haveput an end to my existence. I could hear the words, "Damn it, enough, enough! that is too bad, Gines!"--"How so?" replied a second voice; "hewill but pine here upon the forest, and die by inches: it will be an actof charity to put him out of his pain. "--It will be imagined that I wasnot uninterested in this sort of debate. I made an effort to speak; myvoice failed me. I stretched out one hand with a gesture of entreaty. "You shall not strike, by God!" said one of the voices; "why should webe murderers?"--The side of forbearance at length prevailed. Theytherefore contented themselves with stripping me of my coat andwaistcoat, and rolling me into a dry ditch. They then left me totallyregardless of my distressed condition, and the plentiful effusion ofblood, which streamed from my wound. 

CHAPTER II. 

In this woeful situation, though extremely weak, I was not deprived ofsense. I tore my shirt from my naked body, and endeavoured, with somesuccess, to make of it a bandage to staunch the flowing of the blood. Ithen exerted myself to crawl up the side of the ditch. I had scarcelyeffected the latter, when, with equal surprise and joy, I perceived aman advancing at no great distance. I called for help as well as Icould. The man came towards me with evident signs of compassion, and theappearance I exhibited was indeed sufficiently calculated to excite it. I had no hat. My hair was dishevelled, and the ends of the locks clottedwith blood. My shirt was wrapped about my neck and shoulders, and wasplentifully stained with red. My body, which was naked to my middle, wasvariegated with streams of blood; nor had my lower garments, which werewhite, by any means escaped. 

"For God's sake, my good fellow!" said he, with a tone of the greatestimaginable kindness, "how came you thus?" and, saying this, he lifted meup, and set me on my feet. "Can you stand?" added he, doubtfully. "Oh, yes, very well, " I replied. Having received this answer, he quitted me, and began to take off his own coat, that he might cover me from thecold. I had however over-rated my strength, and was no sooner left tomyself than I reeled, and fell almost at my length upon the ground. ButI broke my fall by stretching out my sound arm, and again raised myselfupon my knees. My benefactor now covered me, raised me, and, bidding melean upon him, told me he would presently conduct me to a place where Ishould be taken care of. Courage is a capricious property; and, thoughwhile I had no one to depend upon but myself, I possessed a mine ofseemingly inexhaustible fortitude, yet no sooner did I find thisunexpected sympathy on the part of another, than my resolution appearedto give way, and I felt ready to faint. My charitable conductorperceived this, and every now and then encouraged me, in a manner socheerful, so good humoured and benevolent, equally free from the tortureof droning expostulation, and the weakness of indulgence, that I thoughtmyself under the conduct of an angel rather than a man. I could perceivethat his behaviour had in it nothing of boorishness, and that he wasthoroughly imbued with the principles of affectionate civility. 

We walked about three quarters of a mile, and that not towards the open, but the most uncouth and unfrequented part of the forest. We crossed aplace which had once been a moat, but which was now in some parts dry, and in others contained a little muddy and stagnated water. Within theenclosure of this moat, I could only discover a pile of ruins, andseveral walls, the upper part of which seemed to overhang theirfoundations, and to totter to their ruin. After having entered howeverwith my conductor through an archway, and passed along a windingpassage that was perfectly dark, we came to a stand. 

At the upper end of this passage was a door, which I was unable toperceive. My conductor knocked at the door, and was answered by a voicefrom within, which, for body and force, might have been the voice of aman, but with a sort of female sharpness and acidity, enquiring, "Who isthere?" Satisfaction was no sooner given on this point, than I heard twobolts pushed back, and the door unlocked. The apartment opened, and weentered. The interior of this habitation by no means corresponded withthe appearance of my protector, but, on the contrary, wore the face ofdiscomfort, carelessness, and dirt. The only person I saw within was awoman, rather advanced in life, and whose person had I know not what ofextraordinary and loathsome. Her eyes were red and blood-shot; her hairwas pendent in matted and shaggy tresses about her shoulders; hercomplexion swarthy, and of the consistency of parchment; her form spare, and her whole body, her arms in particular, uncommonly vigorous andmuscular. Not the milk of human kindness, but the feverous blood ofsavage ferocity, seemed to flow from her heart; and her whole figuresuggested an idea of unmitigable energy, and an appetite gorged inmalevolence. This infernal Thalestris had no sooner cast her eyes uponus as we entered, than she exclaimed in a discordant and discontentedvoice, "What have we got here? this is not one of our people!" Myconductor, without answering this apostrophe, bade her push an easychair which stood in one corner, and set it directly before the fire. This she did with apparent reluctance, murmuring, "Ah! you are at yourold tricks; I wonder what such folks as we have to do with charity! Itwill be the ruin of us at last, I can see that!"--"Hold your tongue, beldam!" said he, with a stern significance of manner, "and fetch one ofmy best shirts, a waistcoat, and some dressings. " Saying this, he at thesame time put into her hand a small bunch of keys. In a word, he treatedme with as much kindness as if he had been my father. He examined mywound, washed and dressed it; at the same time that the old woman, byhis express order, prepared for me such nourishment as he thought mostsuitable to my weak and languid condition. 

These operations were no sooner completed than my benefactor recommendedto me to retire to rest, and preparations were making for that purpose, when suddenly a trampling of feet was heard, succeeded by a knock at thedoor. The old woman opened the door with the same precautions as hadbeen employed upon our arrival, and immediately six or seven personstumultuously entered the apartment. Their appearance was different, somehaving the air of mere rustics, and others that of a tarnished sort ofgentry. All had a feature of boldness, inquietude, and disorder, extremely unlike any thing I had before observed in such a group. But myastonishment was still increased, when upon a second glance I perceivedsomething in the general air of several of them, and of one inparticular, that persuaded me they were the gang from which I had justescaped, and this one the antagonist by whose animosity I was so nearhaving been finally destroyed. I imagined they had entered the hovelwith a hostile intention, that my benefactor was upon the point of beingrobbed, and I probably murdered. 

This suspicion however was soon removed. They addressed my conductorwith respect, under the appellation of captain. They were boisterous andnoisy in their remarks and exclamations, but their turbulence wastempered by a certain deference to his opinion and authority. I couldobserve in the person who had been my active opponent some awkwardnessand irresolution as he first perceived me, which he dismissed with asort of effort, exclaiming, "Who the devil is here?" There was somethingin the tone of this apostrophe that roused the attention of myprotector. He looked at the speaker with a fixed and penetrating glance, and then said, "Nay, Gines, do you know? Did you ever see the personbefore?"--"Curse it, Gines!" interrupted a third, "you are damnably outof luck. They say dead men walk, and you see there is some truth init. "--"Truce with your impertinence, Jeckols!" replied my protector:"this is no proper occasion for a joke. Answer me, Gines, were you thecause of this young man being left naked and wounded this bitter morningupon the forest?"

"Mayhap I was. What then?"

"What provocation could induce you to so cruel a treatment?"

"Provocation enough. He had no money. "

"What, did you use him thus, without so much as being irritated by anyresistance on his part?"

"Yes, he did resist. I only hustled him, and he had the impudence tostrike me. "

"Gines! you are an incorrigible fellow. "

"Pooh, what signifies what I am? You, with your compassion, and yourfine feelings, will bring us all to the gallows. "

"I have nothing to say to you; I have no hopes of you! Comrades, it isfor you to decide upon the conduct of this man as you think proper. Youknow how repeated his offences have been; you know what pains I havetaken to mend him. Our profession is the profession of justice. " [It isthus that the prejudices of men universally teach them to colour themost desperate cause to which they have determined to adhere. ] "We, whoare thieves without a licence, are at open war with another set of menwho are thieves according to law. With such a cause then to bear us out, shall we stain it with cruelty, malice, and revenge? A thief is, ofcourse, a man living among his equals; I do not pretend therefore toassume any authority among you; act as you think proper; but, so far asrelates to myself, I vote that Gines be expelled from among us as adisgrace to our society. "

This proposition seemed to meet the general sense. It was easy toperceive that the opinion of the rest coincided with that of theirleader; notwithstanding which a few of them hesitated as to the conductto be pursued. In the mean time Gines muttered something in a surly andirresolute way, about taking care how they provoked him. Thisinsinuation instantly roused the courage of my protector, and his eyesflashed with contempt. 

"Rascal!" said he, "do you menace us? Do you think we will be yourslaves? No, no, do your worst! Go to the next justice of the peace, andimpeach us; I can easily believe you are capable of it. Sir, when weentered into this gang, we were not such fools as not to know that weentered upon a service of danger. One of its dangers consists in thetreachery of fellows like you. But we did not enter at first to flinchnow. Did you believe that we would live in hourly fear of you, trembleat your threats, and compromise, whenever you should so please, withyour insolence? That would be a blessed life indeed! I would rather seemy flesh torn piecemeal from my bones! Go, sir! I defy you! You dare notdo it! You dare not sacrifice these gallant fellows to your rage, andpublish yourself to all the world a traitor and a scoundrel! If you do, you will punish yourself, not us! Begone!"

The intrepidity of the leader communicated itself to the rest of thecompany. Gines easily saw that there was no hope of bringing them overto a contrary sentiment. After a short pause, he answered, "I did notmean--No, damn it! I will not snivel neither. I was always true to myprinciples, and a friend to you all. But since you are resolved to turnme out, why--good bye to you!"

The expulsion of this man produced a remarkable improvement in the wholegang. Those who were before inclined to humanity, assumed new energy inproportion as they saw such sentiments likely to prevail. They hadbefore suffered themselves to be overborne by the boisterous insolenceof their antagonist; but now they adopted, and with success, a differentconduct. Those who envied the ascendancy of their comrade, and thereforeimitated his conduct, began to hesitate in their career. Stories werebrought forward of the cruelty and brutality of Gines both to men andanimals, which had never before reached the ear of the leader. Thestories I shall not repeat. They could excite only emotions ofabhorrence and disgust; and some of them argued a mind of such a stretchof depravity, as to many readers would appear utterly incredible; andyet this man had his virtues. He was enterprising, persevering, andfaithful. 

His removal was a considerable benefit to me. It would have been nosmall hardship to have been turned adrift immediately under myunfavourable circumstances, with the additional disadvantage of thewound I had received; and yet I could scarcely have ventured to remainunder the same roof with a man, to whom my appearance was as a guiltyconscience, perpetually reminding him of his own offence, and thedispleasure of his leader. His profession accustomed him to a certaindegree of indifference to consequences, and indulgence to the sallies ofpassion; and he might easily have found his opportunity to insult orinjure me, when I should have had nothing but my own debilitatedexertions to protect me. 

Freed from this danger, I found my situation sufficiently fortunate fora man under my circumstances. It was attended with all the advantagesfor concealment my fondest imagination could have hoped; and it was byno means destitute of the benefits which arise from kindness andhumanity. Nothing could be more unlike than the thieves I had seenin ---- jail, and the thieves of my new residence. The latter weregenerally full of cheerfulness and merriment. They could expatiatefreely wherever they thought proper. They could form plans and executethem. They consulted their inclinations. They did not impose uponthemselves the task, as is too often the case in human society, ofseeming tacitly to approve that from which they suffered most; or, whichis worst, of persuading themselves that all the wrongs they sufferedwere right; but were at open war with their oppressors. On the contrary, the imprisoned felons I had lately seen were shut up like wild beasts ina cage, deprived of activity, and palsied with indolence. The occasionaldemonstrations that still remained of their former enterprising lifewere the starts and convulsions of disease, not the meditated andconsistent exertions of a mind in health. They had no more of hope, ofproject, of golden and animated dreams, but were reserved to the mostdismal prospects, and forbidden to think upon any other topic. It istrue, that these two scenes were parts of one whole, the one theconsummation, the hourly to be expected successor of the other. But themen I now saw were wholly inattentive to this, and in that respectappeared to hold no commerce with reflection or reason. 

I might in one view, as I have said, congratulate myself upon my presentresidence; it answered completely the purposes of concealment. It wasthe seat of merriment and hilarity; but the hilarity that characterisedit produced no correspondent feelings in my bosom. The persons whocomposed this society had each of them cast off all control fromestablished principle; their trade was terror, and their constant objectto elude the vigilance of the community. The influence of thesecircumstances was visible in their character. I found among thembenevolence and kindness: they were strongly susceptible of emotions ofgenerosity. But, as their situation was precarious, their dispositionswere proportionably fluctuating. Inured to the animosity of theirspecies, they were irritable and passionate. Accustomed to exerciseharshness towards the subject of their depredations, they did not alwaysconfine their brutality within that scope. They were habituated toconsider wounds and bludgeons and stabbing as the obvious mode ofsurmounting every difficulty. Uninvolved in the debilitating routine ofhuman affairs, they frequently displayed an energy which, from everyimpartial observer, would have extorted veneration. Energy is perhaps ofall qualities the most valuable; and a just political system wouldpossess the means of extracting from it, thus circumstanced, itsbeneficial qualities, instead of consigning it, as now, toindiscriminate destruction. We act like the chemist, who should rejectthe finest ore, and employ none but what was sufficiently debased to fitit immediately for the vilest uses. But the energy of these men, such asI beheld it, was in the highest degree misapplied, unassisted by liberaland enlightened views, and directed only to the most narrow andcontemptible purposes. 

The residence I have been describing might to many persons have appearedattended with intolerable inconveniences. But, exclusively of itsadvantages as a field for speculation, it was Elysium, compared withthat from which I had just escaped. Displeasing company, incommodiousapartments, filthiness, and riot, lost the circumstance by which theycould most effectually disgust, when I was not compelled to remain withthem. All hardships I could patiently endure, in comparison with themenace of a violent and untimely death. There was no suffering that Icould not persuade myself to consider as trivial, except that whichflowed from the tyranny, the frigid precaution, or the inhuman revengeof my own species. 

My recovery advanced in the most favourable manner. The attention andkindness of my protector were incessant, and the rest caught the spiritfrom his example. The old woman who superintended the household stillretained her animosity. She considered me as the cause of the expulsionof Gines from the fraternity. Gines had been the object of herparticular partiality; and, zealous as she was for the public concern, she thought an old and experienced sinner for a raw probationer but anill exchange. Add to which, that her habits inclined her to morosenessand discontent, and that persons of her complexion seem unable to existwithout some object upon which to pour out the superfluity of theirgall. She lost no opportunity, upon the most trifling occasion, ofdisplaying her animosity; and ever and anon eyed me with a furiousglance of canine hunger for my destruction. Nothing was more evidentlymortifying to her, than the procrastination of her malice; nor could shebear to think that a fierceness so gigantic and uncontrollable shouldshow itself in nothing more terrific than the pigmy spite of achambermaid. For myself, I had been accustomed to the warfare offormidable adversaries, and the encounter of alarming dangers; and whatI saw of her spleen had not power sufficient to disturb my tranquillity. 

As I recovered, I told my story, except so far as related to thedetection of Mr. Falkland's eventful secret, to my protector. Thatparticular I could not, as yet, prevail upon myself to disclose, even ina situation like this, which seemed to preclude the possibility of itsbeing made use of to the disadvantage of my persecutor. My presentauditor however, whose habits of thinking were extremely opposite tothose of Mr. Forester, did not, from the obscurity which flowed fromthis reserve, deduce any unfavourable conclusion. His penetration wassuch, as to afford little room for an impostor to hope to mislead him bya fictitious statement, and he confided in that penetration. Soconfiding, the simplicity and integrity of my manner carried convictionto his mind, and insured his good opinion and friendship. 

He listened to my story with eagerness, and commented on the severalparts as I related them. He said, that this was only one fresh instanceof the tyranny and perfidiousness exercised by the powerful members ofthe community, against those who were less privileged than themselves. Nothing could be more clear, than their readiness to sacrifice the humanspecies at large to their meanest interest, or wildest caprice. Who thatsaw the situation in its true light would wait till their oppressorsthought fit to decree their destruction, and not take arms in theirdefence while it was yet in their power? Which was most meritorious, the unresisting and dastardly submission of a slave, or the enterpriseand gallantry of the man who dared to assert his claims? Since, by thepartial administration of our laws, innocence, when power was armedagainst it, had nothing better to hope for than guilt, what man of truecourage would fail to set these laws at defiance, and, if he must sufferby their injustice, at least take care that he had first shown hiscontempt of their yoke? For himself, he should certainly never haveembraced his present calling, had he not been stimulated to it by thesecogent and irresistible reasons; and he hoped, as experience had soforcibly brought a conviction of this sort to my mind, that he shouldfor the future have the happiness to associate me to his pursuits. --Itwill presently be seen with what event these hopes were attended. 

Numerous were the precautions exercised by the gang of thieves with whomI now resided, to elude the vigilance of the satellites of justice. Itwas one of their rules to commit no depredations but at a considerabledistance from the place of their residence; and Gines had transgressedthis regulation in the attack to which I was indebted for my presentasylum. After having possessed themselves of any booty, they took care, in the sight of the persons whom they had robbed, to pursue a route asnearly as possible opposite to that which led to their true haunts. Theappearance of their place of residence, together with its environs, waspeculiarly desolate avid forlorn, and it had the reputation of beinghaunted. The old woman I have described had long been its inhabitant, and was commonly supposed to be its only inhabitant; and her person wellaccorded with the rural ideas of a witch. Her lodgers never went out orcame in but with the utmost circumspection, and generally by night. Thelights which were occasionally seen from various parts of herhabitation, were, by the country people, regarded with horror assupernatural; and if the noise of revelry at any time saluted theirears, it was imagined to proceed from a carnival of devils. With allthese advantages, the thieves did not venture to reside here but byintervals: they frequently absented themselves for months, and removedto a different part of the country. The old woman sometimes attendedthem in these transportations, and sometimes remained; but in all casesher decampment took place either sooner or later than theirs, so thatthe nicest observer could scarcely have traced any connection betweenher reappearance, and the alarms of depredation that were frequentlygiven; and the festival of demons seemed, to the terrified rustics, indifferently to take place whether she were present or absent. 

CHAPTER III. 

One day, while I continued in this situation, a circumstance occurredwhich involuntarily attracted my attention. Two of our people had beensent to a town at some distance, for the purpose of procuring us thethings of which we were in want. After having delivered these to ourlandlady, they retired to one corner of the room; and, one of thempulling a printed paper from his pocket, they mutually occupiedthemselves in examining its contents. I was sitting in an easy chair bythe fire, being considerably better than I had been, though still in aweak and languid state. Having read for a considerable time, they lookedat me, and then at the paper, and then at me again. They then went outof the room together, as if to consult without interruption uponsomething which that paper suggested to them. Some time after theyreturned; and my protector, who had been absent upon the formeroccasion, entered the room at the same instant. 

"Captain!" said one of them with an air of pleasure, "look here! we havefound a prize! I believe it is as good as a bank-note of a hundredguineas. "

Mr. Raymond (that was his name) took the paper, and read. He paused fora moment. He then crushed the paper in his hand; and, turning to theperson from whom he had received it, said, with the tone of a manconfident in the success of his reasons, --

"What use have you for these hundred guineas? Are you in want? Are youin distress? Can you be contented to purchase them at the price oftreachery--of violating the laws of hospitality?"

"Faith, captain, I do not very well know. After having violated otherlaws, I do not see why we should be frightened at an old saw. We pretendto judge for ourselves, and ought to be above shrinking from a bugbearof a proverb. Beside, this is a good deed, and I should think no moreharm of being the ruin of such a thief than of getting my dinner. "

"A thief! You talk of thieves!"

"Not so fast, captain. God defend that I should say a word againstthieving as a general occupation! But one man steals in one way, andanother in another. For my part, I go upon the highway, and take fromany stranger I meet what, it is a hundred to one, he can very wellspare. I see nothing to be found fault with in that. But I have as muchconscience as another man. Because I laugh at assizes, and great wigs, and the gallows, and because I will not be frightened from an innocentaction when the lawyers say me nay, does it follow that I am to have afellow-feeling for pilferers, and rascally servants, and people thathave neither justice nor principle? No; I have too much respect for thetrade not to be a foe to interlopers, and people that so much the moredeserve my hatred, because the world calls them by my name. "

"You are wrong, Larkins! You certainly ought not to employ againstpeople that you hate, supposing your hatred to be reasonable, theinstrumentality of that law which in your practice you defy. Beconsistent. Either be the friend of the law, or its adversary, Dependupon it that, wherever there are laws at all, there will be laws againstsuch people as you and me. Either therefore we all of us deserve thevengeance of the law, or law is not the proper instrument for correctingthe misdeeds of mankind. I tell you this, because I would fain have youaware, that an informer or a king's evidence, a man who takes advantageof the confidence of another in order to betray him, who sells the lifeof his neighbour for money, or, coward-like, upon any pretence calls inthe law to do that for him which he cannot or dares not do for himself, is the vilest of rascals. But in the present case, if your reasons werethe best in the world, they do not apply. "

While Mr. Raymond was speaking, the rest of the gang came into the room. He immediately turned to them, and said, --

"My friends, here is a piece of intelligence that Larkins has justbrought in which, with his leave, I will lay before you. "

Then unfolding the paper he had received, he continued: "This is thedescription of a felon, with the offer of a hundred guineas for hisapprehension. Larking picked it up at ----. By the time and othercircumstances, but particularly by the minute description of hisperson, there can be no doubt but the object of it is our young friend, whose life I was a while ago the instrument of saving. He is chargedhere with having taken advantage of the confidence of his patron andbenefactor to rob him of property to a large amount. Upon this charge hewas committed to the county jail, from whence he made his escape about afortnight ago, without venturing to stand his trial; a circumstancewhich is stated by the advertiser as tantamount to a confession of hisguilt. 

"My friends, I was acquainted with the particulars of this story sometime before. This lad let me into his history, at a time that he couldnot possibly foresee that he should stand in need of that precaution asan antidote against danger. He is not guilty of what is laid to hischarge. Which of you is so ignorant as to suppose, that his escape isany confirmation of his guilt? Who ever thinks, when he is apprehendedfor trial, of his innocence or guilt as being at all material to theissue? Who ever was fool enough to volunteer a trial, where those whoare to decide think more of the horror of the thing of which he isaccused, than whether he were the person that did it; and where thenature of our motives is to be collected from a set of ignorantwitnesses, that no wise man would trust for a fair representation of themost indifferent action of his life?

"The poor lad's story is a long one, and I will not trouble you with itnow. But from that story it is as clear as the day, that, because hewished to leave the service of his master, because he had been perhaps alittle too inquisitive in his master's concerns, and because, as Isuspect, he had been trusted with some important secrets, his masterconceived an antipathy against him. The antipathy gradually proceededto such a length, as to induce the master to forge this vile accusation. He seemed willing to hang the lad out of the way, rather than suffer himto go where he pleased, or get beyond the reach of his power. Williamshas told me the story with such ingenuousness, that I am as sure that heis guiltless of what they lay to his charge, as that I am so myself. Nevertheless the man's servants who were called in to hear theaccusation, and his relation, who as justice of the peace made out themittimus, and who had the folly to think he could be impartial, gave iton his side with one voice, and thus afforded Williams a sample of whathe had to expect in the sequel. 

"Larkins, who when he received this paper had no previous knowledge ofparticulars, was for taking advantage of it for the purpose of earningthe hundred guineas. Are you of that mind now you have heard them? Willyou for so paltry a consideration deliver up the lamb into the jaws ofthe wolf? Will you abet the purposes of this sanguinary rascal, who, notcontented with driving his late dependent from house and home, deprivinghim of character and all the ordinary means of subsistence, and leavinghim almost without a refuge, still thirsts for his blood? If no otherperson have the courage to set limits to the tyranny of courts ofjustice, shall not we? Shall we, who earn our livelihood by generousdaring, be indebted for a penny to the vile artifices of the informer?Shall we, against whom the whole species is in arms, refuse ourprotection to an individual, more exposed to, but still less deservingof, their persecution than ourselves?"

The representation of the captain produced an instant effect upon thewhole company. They all exclaimed, "Betray him! No, not for worlds! Heis safe. We will protect him at the hazard of our lives. If fidelityand honour be banished from thieves, where shall they find refuge uponthe face of the earth?"[F] Larkins in particular thanked the captain forhis interference, and swore that he would rather part with his righthand than injure so worthy a lad or assist such an unheard-of villainy. Saying this, he took me by the hand and bade me fear nothing. Undertheir roof no harm should ever befal me; and, even if the understrappersof the law should discover my retreat, they would to a man die in mydefence, sooner than a hair of my head should be hurt. I thanked himmost sincerely for his good-will; but I was principally struck with thefervent benevolence of my benefactor. I told them, I found that myenemies were inexorable, and would never be appeased but with my blood;and I assured them with the most solemn and earnest veracity, that I haddone nothing to deserve the persecution which was exercised against me. 

[Footnote F: This seems to be the parody of a celebrated saying of JohnKing of France, who was taken prisoner by the Black Prince at the battleof Poitiers. ]

The spirit and energy of Mr. Raymond had been such as to leave no partfor me to perform in repelling this unlooked-for danger. Nevertheless, it left a very serious impression upon my mind. I had always placed someconfidence in the returning equity of Mr. Falkland. Though he persecutedme with bitterness, I could not help believing that he did itunwillingly, and I was persuaded it would not be for ever. A man, whoseoriginal principles had been so full of rectitude and honour, could notfail at some time to recollect the injustice of his conduct, and toremit his asperity. This idea had been always present to me, and had inno small degree conspired to instigate my exertions. I said, "I willconvince my persecutor that I am of more value than that I should besacrificed purely by way of precaution. " These expectations on my parthad been encouraged by Mr. Falkland's behaviour upon the question of myimprisonment, and by various particulars which had occurred since. 

But this new incident gave the subject a totally different appearance. Isaw him, not contented with blasting my reputation, confining me for aperiod in jail, and reducing me to the situation of a houselessvagabond, still continuing his pursuit under these forlorn circumstanceswith unmitigable cruelty. Indignation and resentment seemed now for thefirst time to penetrate my mind. I knew his misery so well, I was sofully acquainted with its cause, and strongly impressed with the idea ofits being unmerited, that, while I suffered deeply, I still continued topity, rather than hate my persecutor. But this incident introduced somechange into my feelings. I said, "Surely he might now believe that hehad sufficiently disarmed me, and might at length suffer me to be atpeace. At least, ought he not to be contented to leave me to my fate, the perilous and uncertain condition of an escaped felon, instead ofthus whetting the animosity and vigilance of my countrymen against me?Were his interference on my behalf in opposition to the stern severityof Mr. Forester, and his various acts of kindness since, a mere partthat he played in order to lull me into patience? Was he perpetuallyhaunted with the fear of an ample retaliation, and for that purpose didhe personate remorse, at the very moment that he was secretly keepingevery engine at play that could secure my destruction?" The verysuspicion of such a fact filled me with inexpressible horror, andstruck a sudden chill through every fibre of my frame. 

My wound was by this time completely healed, and it became absolutelynecessary that I should form some determination respecting the future. My habits of thinking were such as gave me an uncontrollable repugnanceto the vocation of my hosts. I did not indeed feel that aversion andabhorrence to the men which are commonly entertained. I saw andrespected their good qualities and their virtues. I was by no meansinclined to believe them worse men, or more hostile in theirdispositions to the welfare of their species, than the generality ofthose that look down upon them with most censure. But, though I did notcease to love them as individuals, my eyes were perfectly open to theirmistakes. If I should otherwise have been in danger of being misled, itwas my fortune to have studied felons in a jail before I studied them intheir state of comparative prosperity; and this was an infallibleantidote to the poison. I saw that in this profession were exerteduncommon energy, ingenuity, and fortitude, and I could not helprecollecting how admirably beneficial such qualities might be made inthe great theatre of human affairs; while, in their present direction, they were thrown away upon purposes diametrically at war with the firstinterests of human society. Nor were their proceedings less injurious totheir own interest than incompatible with the general welfare. The manwho risks or sacrifices his life for the public cause, is rewarded withthe testimony of an approving conscience; but persons who wantonly defythe necessary, though atrociously exaggerated, precautions of governmentin the matter of property, at the same time that they commit analarming hostility against the whole, are, as to their own concerns, scarcely less absurd and self-neglectful than the man who should sethimself up as a mark for a file of musqueteers to shoot at. 

Viewing the subject in this light, I not only determined that I wouldhave no share in their occupation myself, but thought I could not doless, in return for the benefits I had received from them, thanendeavour to dissuade them from an employment in which they mustthemselves be the greatest sufferers. My expostulation met with avarious reception. All the persons to whom it was addressed had beentolerably successful in persuading themselves of the innocence of theircalling; and what remained of doubt in their mind was smothered, and, soto speak, laboriously forgotten. Some of them laughed at my arguments, as a ridiculous piece of missionary quixotism. Others, and particularlyour captain, repelled them with the boldness of a man that knows he hasgot the strongest side. But this sentiment of ease and self-satisfactiondid not long remain. They had been used to arguments derived fromreligion and the sacredness of law. They had long ago shaken these fromthem as so many prejudices. But my view of the subject appealed toprinciples which they could not contest, and had by no means the air ofthat customary reproof which is for ever dinned in our ears withoutfinding one responsive chord in our hearts. Urged, as they now were, with objections unexpected and cogent, some of those to whom I addressedthem began to grow peevish and impatient of the intrusive remonstrance. But this was by no means the case with Mr. Raymond. He was possessed ofa candour that I have seldom seen equalled. He was surprised to hearobjections so powerful to that which, as a matter of speculation, hebelieved he had examined on all sides. He revolved them withimpartiality and care. He admitted them slowly, but he at length fullyadmitted them. He had now but one rejoinder in reserve. 

"Alas! Williams, " said he, "it would have been fortunate for me if theseviews had been presented to me, previously to my embracing my presentprofession. It is now too late. Those very laws which, by a perceptionof their iniquity, drove me to what I am, preclude my return. God, weare told, judges of men by what they are at the period of arraignment, and whatever be their crimes, if they have seen and abjured the folly ofthose crimes, receives them to favour. But the institutions of countriesthat profess to worship this God admit no such distinctions. They leaveno room for amendment, and seem to have a brutal delight in confoundingthe demerits of offenders. It signifies not what is the character of theindividual at the hour of trial. How changed, how spotless, and howuseful, avails him nothing. If they discover at the distance offourteen[G] or of forty years[H] an action for which the law ordainsthat his life shall be the forfeit, though the interval should have beenspent with the purity of a saint and the devotedness of a patriot, theydisdain to enquire into it. What then can I do? Am I not compelled to goon in folly, having once begun?"

[Footnote G: Eugene Aram. See Annual Register for 1759. ]

[Footnote H: William Andrew Home. Ibid. ]

CHAPTER IV. 

I Was extremely affected by this plea. I could only answer, that Mr. Raymond must himself be the best judge of the course it became him tohold; I trusted the case was not so desperate as he imagined. 

This subject was pursued no further, and was in some degree driven frommy thoughts by an incident of a very extraordinary nature. 

I have already mentioned the animosity that was entertained against meby the infernal portress of this solitary mansion. Gines, the expelledmember of the gang, had been her particular favourite. She submitted tohis exile indeed, because her genius felt subdued by the energy andinherent superiority of Mr. Raymond; but she submitted with murmuringand discontent. Not daring to resent the conduct of the principal inthis affair, she collected all the bitterness of her spirit against me. 

To the unpardonable offence I had thus committed in the first instance, were added the reasonings I had lately offered against the profession ofrobbery. Robbery was a fundamental article in the creed of this hoaryveteran, and she listened to my objections with the same unaffectedastonishment and horror that an old woman of other habits would listento one who objected to the agonies and dissolution of the Creator of theworld, or to the garment of imputed righteousness prepared to envelopethe souls of the elect. Like the religious bigot, she was sufficientlydisposed to avenge a hostility against her opinions with the weapons ofsublunary warfare. 

Meanwhile I had smiled at the impotence of her malice, as an object ofcontempt rather than alarm. She perceived, as I imagine, the slightestimation in which I held her, and this did not a little increase theperturbation of her thoughts. 

One day I was left alone, with no other person in the house than thisswarthy sybil. The thieves had set out upon an expedition about twohours after sunset on the preceding evening, and had not returned, asthey were accustomed to do, before day-break the next morning. This wasa circumstance that sometimes occurred, and therefore did not produceany extraordinary alarm. At one time the scent of prey would lead thembeyond the bounds they had prescribed themselves, and at another thefear of pursuit: the life of a thief is always uncertain. The old womanhad been preparing during the night for the meal to which they wouldexpect to sit down as soon as might be after their return. 

For myself, I had learned from their habits to be indifferent to theregular return of the different parts of the day, and in some degree toturn day into night, and night into day. I had been now several weeks inthis residence, and the season was considerably advanced. I had passedsome hours during the night in ruminating on my situation. The characterand manners of the men among whom I lived were disgusting to me. Theirbrutal ignorance, their ferocious habits, and their coarse behaviour, instead of becoming more tolerable by custom, hourly added force to myoriginal aversion. The uncommon vigour of their minds, and acuteness oftheir invention in the business they pursued, compared with theodiousness of that business and their habitual depravity, awakened in mesensations too painful to be endured. Moral disapprobation, at least ina mind unsubdued by philosophy, I found to be one of the most fertilesources of disquiet and uneasiness. From this pain the society of Mr. Raymond by no means relieved me. He was indeed eminently superior to thevices of the rest; but I did not less exquisitely feel how much he wasout of his place, how disproportionably associated, or how contemptiblyemployed. I had attempted to counteract the errors under which he andhis companions laboured; but I had found the obstacles that presentedthemselves greater than I had imagined. 

What was I to do? Was I to wait the issue of this my missionaryundertaking, or was I to withdraw myself immediately? When I withdrew, ought that to be done privately, or with an open avowal of my design, and an endeavour to supply by the force of example what was deficient inmy arguments? It was certainly improper, as I declined all participationin the pursuits of these men, did not pay my contribution of hazard tothe means by which they subsisted, and had no congeniality with theirhabits, that I should continue to reside with them longer than wasabsolutely necessary. There was one circumstance that rendered thisdeliberation particularly pressing. They intended in a few days removingfrom their present habitation, to a haunt to which they were accustomed, in a distant county. If I did not propose to continue with them, itwould perhaps be wrong to accompany them in this removal. The state ofcalamity to which my inexorable prosecutor had reduced me, had made theencounter even of a den of robbers a fortunate adventure. But the timethat had since elapsed, had probably been sufficient to relax thekeenness of the quest that was made after me. I sighed for that solitudeand obscurity, that retreat from the vexations of the world and thevoice even of common fame, which I had proposed to myself when I brokemy prison. 

Such were the meditations which now occupied my mind. At length I grewfatigued with continual contemplation, and to relieve myself pulled outa pocket Horace, the legacy of my beloved Brightwel! I read with aviditythe epistle in which he so beautifully describes to Fuscus, thegrammarian, the pleasures of rural tranquillity and independence. Bythis time the sun rose from behind the eastern hills, and I opened mycasement to contemplate it. The day commenced with peculiar brilliancy, and was accompanied with all those charms which the poets of nature, asthey have been styled, have so much delighted to describe. There wassomething in this scene, particularly as succeeding to the activeexertions of intellect, that soothed the mind to composure. Insensibly aconfused reverie invaded my faculties; I withdrew from the window, threwmyself upon the bed, and fell asleep. 

I do not recollect the precise images which in this situation passedthrough my thoughts, but I know that they concluded with the idea ofsome person, the agent of Mr. Falkland, approaching to assassinate me. This thought had probably been suggested by the project I meditated ofentering once again into the world, and throwing myself within thesphere of his possible vengeance. I imagined that the design of themurderer was to come upon me by surprise, that I was aware of hisdesign, and yet, by some fascination, had no thought of evading it. Iheard the steps of the murderer as he cautiously approached. I seemed tolisten to his constrained yet audible breathings. He came up to thecorner where I was placed, and then stopped. 

The idea became too terrible; I started, opened my eyes, and beheld theexecrable hag before mentioned standing over me with a butcher'scleaver. I shifted my situation with a speed that seemed too swift forvolition, and the blow already aimed at my skull sunk impotent upon thebed. Before she could wholly recover her posture, I sprung upon her, seized hold of the weapon, and had nearly wrested it from her. But in amoment she resumed her strength and her desperate purpose, and we had afurious struggle--she impelled by inveterate malice, and I resisting formy life. Her vigour was truly Amazonian, and at no time had I everoccasion to contend with a more formidable opponent. Her glance wasrapid and exact, and the shock with which from time to time she impelledher whole frame inconceivably vehement. At length I was victorious, tookfrom her the instrument of death, and threw her upon the ground. Tillnow the earnestness of her exertions had curbed her rage; but now shegnashed with her teeth, her eyes seemed as if starting from theirsockets, and her body heaved with uncontrollable insanity. 

"Rascal! devil!" she exclaimed, "what do you mean to do to me?"

Till now the scene had passed uninterrupted by a single word. 

"Nothing, " I replied: "begone, infernal witch! and leave me to myself. "

"Leave you! No: I will thrust my fingers through your ribs, and drinkyour blood!--You conquer me?--Ha, ha!--Yes, yes; you shall!--I will situpon you, and press you to hell! I will roast you with brimstone, anddash your entrails into your eyes! Ha, ha!--ha!"

Saying this, she sprung up, and prepared to attack me with redoubledfury. I seized her hands, and compelled her to sit upon the bed. Thusrestrained, she continued to express the tumult of her thoughts bygrinning, by certain furious motions of her head, and by occasionalvehement efforts to disengage herself from my grasp. These contortionsand starts were of the nature of those fits in which the patients arecommonly supposed to need three or four persons to hold them. But Ifound by experience that, under the circumstances in which I wasplaced, my single strength was sufficient. The spectacle of her emotionswas inconceivably frightful. Her violence at length however began toabate, and she became convinced of the hopelessness of the contest. 

"Let me go!" said she. "Why do you hold me? I will not be held. "

"I wanted you gone from the first, " replied I. 

"Are you contented to go now?"

"Yes, I tell you, misbegotten villain! Yes, rascal!"

I immediately loosed my hold. She flew to the door, and, holding it inher hand, said, "I will be the death of you yet: you shall not be yourown man twenty-four hours longer!" With these words she shut the door, and locked it upon me. An action so totally unexpected startled me. Whither was she gone? What was it she intended? To perish by themachinations of such a hag as this was a thought not to be endured. Death in any form brought upon us by surprise, and for which the mindhas had no time to prepare, is inexpressibly terrible. My thoughtswandered in breathless horror and confusion, and all within was uproar. I endeavoured to break the door, but in vain. I went round the room insearch of some tool to assist me. At length I rushed against it with adesperate effort, to which it yielded, and had nearly thrown me from thetop of the stairs to the bottom. 

I descended with all possible caution and vigilance, I entered the roomwhich served us for a kitchen, but it was deserted. I searched everyother apartment in vain. I went out among the ruins; still I discoverednothing of my late assailant. It was extraordinaiy: what could be becomeof her? what was I to conclude from her disappearance! I reflected onher parting menace, --"I should not be my own man twenty-four hourslonger. " It was mysterious! it did not seem to be the menace ofassassination. Suddenly the recollection of the hand-bill brought to usby Larkins rushed upon my memory. Was it possible that she alluded tothat in her parting words? Would she set out upon such an expedition byherself? Was it not dangerous to the whole fraternity if, without thesmallest precaution, she should bring the officers of justice in themidst of them? It was perhaps improbable she would engage in anundertaking thus desperate. It was not however easy to answer for theconduct of a person in her state of mind. Should I wait, and risk thepreservation of my liberty upon the issue?

To this question I returned an immediate negative. I had resolved in ashort time to quit my present situation, and the difference of a littlesooner or a little later could not be very material. It promised to beneither agreeable nor prudent for me to remain under the same roof witha person who had manifested such a fierce and inexpiable hostility. Butthe consideration which had inexpressibly the most weight with me, belonged to the ideas of imprisonment, trial, and death. The longer theyhad formed the subject of my contemplation, the more forcibly was Iimpelled to avoid them. I had entered upon a system of action for thatpurpose; I had already made many sacrifices; and I believed that I wouldnever miscarry in this project through any neglect of mine. The thoughtof what was reserved for me by my persecutors sickened my very soul; andthe more intimately I was acquainted with oppression and injustice, themore deeply was I penetrated with the abhorrence to which they areentitled. 

Such were the reasons that determined me instantly, abruptly, withoutleave-taking, or acknowledgment for the peculiar and repeated favours Ihad received, to quit a habitation to which, for six weeks, I hadapparently been indebted for protection from trial, conviction, and anignominious death. I had come hither pennyless; I quitted my abode withthe sum of a few guineas in my possession, Mr. Raymond having insistedupon my taking a share at the time that each man received his dividendfrom the common stock. Though I had reason to suppose that the heat ofthe pursuit against me would be somewhat remitted by the time that hadelapsed, the magnitude of the mischief that, in an unfavourable event, might fall on me, determined me to neglect no imaginable precaution. Irecollected the hand-bill which was the source of my present alarm, andconceived that one of the principal dangers which threatened me was therecognition of my person, either by such as had previously known me, oreven by strangers. It seemed prudent therefore to disguise it aseffectually as I could. For this purpose I had recourse to a parcel oftattered garments, that lay in a neglected corner of our habitation. Thedisguise I chose was that of a beggar. Upon this plan, I threw off myshirt; I tied a handkerchief about my head, with which I took care tocover one of my eyes; over this I drew a piece of an old woollennightcap. I selected the worst apparel I could find; and this I reducedto a still more deplorable condition, by rents that I purposely made invarious places. Thus equipped, I surveyed myself in a looking-glass. Ihad rendered my appearance complete; nor would any one have suspectedthat I was not one of the fraternity to which I assumed to belong. Isaid, "This is the form in which tyranny and injustice oblige me to seekfor refuge: but better, a thousand times better is it, thus to incurcontempt with the dregs of mankind, than trust to the tender mercies ofour superiors!"

CHAPTER V. 

The only rule that I laid down to myself in traversing the forest, wasto take a direction as opposite as possible to that which led to thescene of my late imprisonment. After about two hours walking I arrivedat the termination of this ruder scene, and reached that part of thecountry which is inclosed and cultivated. Here I sat down by the side ofa brook, and, pulling out a crust of bread which I had brought away withme, rested and refreshed myself. While I continued in this place, Ibegan to ruminate upon the plan I should lay down for my futureproceedings; and my propensity now led me, as it had done in a formerinstance, to fix upon the capital, which I believed, besides its otherrecommendations, would prove the safest place for concealment. Duringthese thoughts I saw a couple of peasants passing at a small distance, and enquired of them respecting the London road. By their description Iunderstood that the most immediate way would be to repass a part of theforest, and that it would be necessary to approach considerably nearerto the county-town than I was at the spot which I had at presentreached. I did not imagine that this could be a circumstance ofconsiderable importance. My disguise appeared to be a sufficientsecurity against momentary danger; and I therefore took a path, thoughnot the most direct one, which led towards the point they suggested. 

Some of the occurrences of the day are deserving to be mentioned. As Ipassed along a road which lay in my way for a few miles, I saw acarriage advancing in the opposite direction. I debated with myself fora moment, whether I should pass it without notice, or should take thisoccasion, by voice or gesture, of making an essay of my trade. This idledisquisition was however speedily driven from my mind when I perceivedthat the carriage was Mr. Falkland's. The suddenness of the encounterstruck me with terror, though perhaps it would have been difficult forcalm reflection to have discovered any considerable danger. I withdrewfrom the road, and skulked behind a hedge till it should have completelygone by. I was too much occupied with my own feelings, to venture toexamine whether or no the terrible adversary of my peace were in thecarriage. I persuaded myself that he was. I looked after the equipage, and exclaimed, "There you may see the luxurious accommodations andappendages of guilt, and here the forlornness that awaits uponinnocence!"--I was to blame to imagine that my case was singular in thatrespect. I only mention it to show how tile most trivial circumstancecontributes to embitter the cup to the man of adversity. The thoughthowever was a transient one. I had learned this lesson from mysufferings, not to indulge in the luxury of discontent. As my mindrecovered its tranquillity, I began to enquire whether the phenomenon Ihad just seen could have any relation to myself. But though my mind wasextremely inquisitive and versatile in this respect, I could discover nosufficient ground upon which to build a judgment. 

At night I entered a little public-house at the extremity of a village, and, seating myself in a corner of the kitchen, asked for some bread andcheese. While I was sitting at my repast, three or four labourers camein for a little refreshment after their work. Ideas respecting theinequality of rank pervade every order in society; and, as my appearancewas meaner and more contemptible than theirs, I found it expedient togive way to these gentry of a village alehouse, and remove to anobscurer station. I was surprised, and not a little startled, to findthem fall almost immediately into conversation about my history, whom, with a slight variation of circumstances, they styled the notorioushousebreaker, Kit Williams. 

"Damn the fellow, " said one of them, "one never hears of any thing else. O' my life, I think he makes talk for the whole country. "

"That is very true, " replied another. "I was at the market-town to-dayto sell some oats for my master, and there was a hue and cry, some ofthem thought they had got him, but it was a false alarm. "

"That hundred guineas is a fine thing, " rejoined the first. "I should beglad if so be as how it fell in my way. "

"For the matter of that, " said his companion, "I should like a hundredguineas as well as another. But I cannot be of your mind for all that. Ishould never think money would do me any good that had been the means ofbringing a Christian creature to the gallows. "

"Poh, that is all my granny! Some folks must be hanged, to keep thewheels of our state-folks a-going. Besides, I could forgive the fellowall his other robberies, but that he should have been so hardened as tobreak the house of his own master at last, that is too bad. "

"Lord! lord!" replied the other, "I see you know nothing of the matter!I will tell you how it was, as I learned it at the town. I questionwhether he ever robbed his master at all. But, hark you! you must knowas how that squire Falkland was once tried for murder"--

"Yes, yes, we know that. "

"Well, he was as innocent as the child unborn. But I supposes as how heis a little soft or so. And so Kit Williams--Kit is a devilish cunningfellow, you may judge that from his breaking prison no less than fivetimes, --so, I say, he threatened to bring his master to trial at'size all over again, and so frightened him, and got money from him atdivers times. Till at last one squire Forester, a relation of t'other, found it all out. And he made the hell of a rumpus, and sent away Kit toprison in a twinky; and I believe he would have been hanged: for whentwo squires lay their heads together, they do not much matter law, youknow; or else they twist the law to their own ends, I cannot exactly saywhich; but it is much at one when the poor fellow's breath is out of hisbody. "

Though this story was very circumstantially told, and with a sufficientdetail of particulars, it did not pass unquestioned. Each man maintainedthe justness of his own statement, and the dispute was long andobstinately pursued. Historians and commentators at length withdrewtogether. The terrors with which I was seized when this conversationbegan, were extreme. I stole a sidelong glance to one quarter andanother, to observe if any man's attention was turned upon me. Itrembled as if in an ague-fit; and, at first, felt continual impulses toquit the house, and take to my heels. I drew closer to my corner, heldaside my head, and seemed from time to time to undergo a totalrevolution of the animal economy. 

At length the tide of ideas turned. Perceiving they paid no attention tome, the recollection of the full security my disguise afforded recurredstrongly to my thoughts; and I began inwardly to exult, though I did notventure to obtrude myself to examination. By degrees I began to beamused at the absurdity of their tales, and the variety of thefalsehoods I heard asserted around me. My soul seemed to expand; I felta pride in the self-possession and lightness of heart with which I couldlisten to the scene; and I determined to prolong and heighten theenjoyment. Accordingly, when they were withdrawn, I addressed myself toour hostess, a buxom, bluff, good-humoured widow, and asked what sort ofa man this Kit Williams might be? She replied that, as she was informed, he was as handsome, likely a lad, as any in four counties round; andthat she loved him for his cleverness, by which he outwitted all thekeepers they could set over him, and made his way through stone walls asif they were so many cobwebs. I observed, that the country was sothoroughly alarmed, that I did not think it possible he should escapethe pursuit that was set up after him. This idea excited her immediateindignation: she said, she hoped he was far enough away by this time;but if not, she wished the curse of God might light on them thatbetrayed so noble a fellow to an ignominious end!--Though she littlethought that the person of whom she spoke was so near her, yet thesincere and generous warmth with which She interested herself in mybehalf gave me considerable pleasure. With this sensation to sweeten thefatigues of the day and the calamities of my situation, I retired fromthe kitchen to a neighbouring barn, laid myself down upon some straw, and fell into a profound sleep. 

The next day about noon, as I was pursuing my journey, I was overtakenby two men on horseback, who stopped me, to enquire respecting a personthat they supposed might have passed along that road. As they proceededin their description, I perceived, with astonishment and terror, that Iwas myself the person to whom their questions related. They entered intoa tolerably accurate detail of the various characteristics by which myperson might best be distinguished. They said, they had good reason tobelieve that I had been seen at a place in that county the very daybefore. While they were speaking a third person, who had fallen behind, came up; and my alarm was greatly increased upon seeing that this personwas the servant of Mr. Forester, who had visited me in prison about afortnight before my escape. My best resource in this crisis wascomposure and apparent indifference. It was fortunate for me that mydisguise was so complete, that the eye of Mr. Falkland itself couldscarcely have penetrated it. I had been aware for some time before thatthis was a refuge which events might make necessary, and had endeavouredto arrange and methodise my ideas upon the subject. From my youth I hadpossessed a considerable facility in the art of imitation; and when Iquitted my retreat in the habitation of Mr. Raymond, I adopted, alongwith my beggar's attire, a peculiar slouching and clownish gait, to beused whenever there should appear the least chance of my being observed, together with an Irish brogue which I had had an opportunity of studyingin my prison. Such are the miserable expedients, and so great thestudied artifice, which man, who never deserves the name of manhood butin proportion as he is erect and independent, may find it necessary toemploy, for the purpose of eluding the inexorable animosity andunfeeling tyranny of his fellow man! I had made use of this brogue, though I have not thought it necessary to write it down in my narrative, in the conversation of the village alehouse. Mr. Forester's servant, ashe came up, observed that his companions were engaged in conversationwith me; and, guessing at the subject, asked whether they had gained anyintelligence. He added to the information at which they had alreadyhinted, that a resolution was taken to spare neither diligence norexpense for my discovery and apprehension, and that they were satisfied, if I were above ground and in the kingdom, it would be impossible for meto escape them. 

Every new incident that had occurred to me tended to impress upon mymind the extreme danger to which I was exposed. I could almost haveimagined that I was the sole subject of general attention, and that thewhole world was in arms to exterminate me. The very idea tingled throughevery fibre of my frame. But, terrible as it appeared to my imagination, it did but give new energy to my purpose; and I determined that I wouldnot voluntarily resign the field, that is, literally speaking, my neckto the cord of the executioner, notwithstanding the greatest superiorityin my assailants. But the incidents which had befallen me, though theydid not change my purpose, induced me to examine over again the means bywhich it might be effected. The consequence of this revisal was, todetermine me to bend my course to the nearest sea-port on the west sideof the island, and transport myself to Ireland. I cannot now tell whatit was that inclined me to prefer this scheme to that which I hadoriginally formed. Perhaps the latter, which had been for some timepresent to my imagination, for that reason appeared the more obvious ofthe two; and I found an appearance of complexity, which the mind did notstay to explain, in substituting the other in its stead. 

I arrived without further impediment at the place from which I intendedto sail, enquired for a vessel, which I found ready to put to sea in afew hours, and agreed with the captain for my passage. Ireland had tome the disadvantage of being a dependency of the British government, andtherefore a place of less security than most other countries which aredivided from it by the ocean. To judge from the diligence with which Iseemed to be pursued in England, it was not improbable that the zeal ofmy persecutors might follow me to the other side of the channel. It washowever sufficiently agreeable to my mind, that I was upon the point ofbeing removed one step further from the danger which was so grievous tomy imagination. 

Could there be any peril in the short interval that was to elapse, before the vessel was to weigh anchor and quit the English shore?Probably not. A very short time had intervened between my determinationfor the sea and my arrival at this place; and if any new alarm had beengiven to my prosecutors, it proceeded from the old woman a very few daysbefore. I hoped I had anticipated their diligence. Meanwhile, that Imight neglect no reasonable precaution, I went instantly on board, resolved that I would not unnecessarily, by walking the streets of thetown, expose myself to any untoward accident. This was the first time Ihad, upon any occasion, taken leave of my native country. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The time was now nearly elapsed that was prescribed for our stay, andorders for weighing anchor were every moment expected, when we werehailed by a boat from the shore, with two other men in it besides thosethat rowed. They entered our vessel in an instant. They were officersof justice. The passengers, five persons besides myself, were orderedupon deck for examination. I was inexpressibly disturbed at theoccurrence of such a circumstance in so unseasonable a moment. I took itfor granted that it was of me they were in search. Was it possible that, by any unaccountable accident, they should have got an intimation of mydisguise? It was infinitely more distressing to encounter them upon thisnarrow stage, and under these pointed circumstances, than, as I hadbefore encountered my pursuers, under the appearance of an indifferentperson. My recollection however did not forsake me. I confided in myconscious disguise and my Irish brogue, as a rock of dependence againstall accidents. 

No sooner did we appear upon deck than, to my great consternation, Icould observe the attention of our guests principally turned upon me. They asked a few frivolous questions of such of my fellow passengers ashappened to be nearest to them; and then, turning to me, enquired myname, who I was, whence I came, and what had brought me there? I hadscarcely opened my mouth to reply, when, with one consent, they laidhold of me, said I was their prisoner, and declared that my accent, together with the correspondence of my person, would be sufficient toconvict me before any court in England. I was hurried out of the vesselinto the boat in which they came, and seated between them, as if by wayof precaution, lest I should spring overboard, and by any means escapethem. 

I now took it for granted that I was once more in the power of Mr. Falkland; and the idea was insupportably mortifying and oppressive to myimagination. Escape from his pursuit, freedom from his tyranny, wereobjects upon which my whole soul was bent. Could no human ingenuity andexertion effect them? Did his power reach through all space, and hiseye penetrate every concealment? Was he like that mysterious being, toprotect us from whose fierce revenge mountains and hills, we are told, might fall on us in vain? No idea is more heart-sickening and tremendousthan this. But, in my case, it was not a subject of reasoning or offaith; I could derive no comfort, either directly from the unbeliefwhich, upon religious subjects, some men avow to their own minds; orsecretly from the remoteness and incomprehensibility of the conception:it was an affair of sense; I felt the fangs of the tiger striking deepinto my heart. 

But though this impression was at first exceedingly strong, andaccompanied with its usual attendants of dejection and pusillanimity, mymind soon began, as it were mechanically, to turn upon the considerationof the distance between this sea-port and my county prison, and thevarious opportunities of escape that might offer themselves in theinterval. My first duty was to avoid betraying myself, more than itmight afterwards appear I was betrayed already. It was possible that, though apprehended, my apprehension might have been determined on uponsome slight score, and that, by my dexterity, I might render mydismission as sudden as my arrest had been. It was even possible that Ihad been seized through a mistake, and that the present measure mighthave no connection with Mr. Falkland's affair. Upon every supposition, it was my business to gain information. In my passage from the ship tothe town I did not utter a word. My conductors commented on mysulkiness; but remarked that it would avail me nothing--I shouldinfallibly swing, as it was never known that any body got off who wastried for robbing his majesty's mail. It is difficult to conceive thelightness of heart which was communicated to me by these words: Ipersisted however in the silence I had meditated. From the rest of theirconversation, which was sufficiently voluble, I learned that the mailfrom Edinburgh to London had been robbed about ten days before by twoIrishmen, that one of them was already secured, and that I was taken upupon suspicion of being the other. They had a description of his person, which, though, as I afterwards found, it disagreed from mine in severalmaterial articles, appeared to them to tally to the minutest tittle. Theintelligence that the whole proceeding against me was founded in amistake, took an oppressive load from my mind. I believed that I shouldimmediately be able to establish my innocence, to the satisfaction ofany magistrate in the kingdom; and though crossed in my plans, andthwarted in my design of quitting the island, even after I was alreadyat sea, this was but a trifling inconvenience compared with what I hadhad but too much reason to fear. 

As soon as we came ashore, I was conducted to the house of a justice ofpeace, a man who had formerly been the captain of a collier, but who, having been successful in the world, had quitted this wandering life, and for some years had had the honour to represent his majesty's person. We were detained for some time in a sort of anti-room, waiting hisreverence's leisure. The persons by whom I had been taken up wereexperienced in their trade, and insisted upon employing this interval insearching me, in presence of two of his worship's servants. They foundupon me fifteen guineas and some silver. They required me to stripmyself perfectly naked, that they might examine whether I had bank-notesconcealed any where about my person. They took up the detached parcelsof my miserable attire as I threw it from me, and felt them one by one, to discover whether the articles of which they were in search might byany device be sewn up in them. To all this I submitted withoutmurmuring. It might probably come to the same thing at last; and summaryjustice was sufficiently coincident with my views, my principal objectbeing to get as soon as possible out of the clutches of the respectablepersons who now had me in custody. 

This operation was scarcely completed, before we were directed to beushered into his worship's apartment. My accusers opened the charge, andtold him they had been ordered to this town, upon an intimation that oneof the persons who robbed the Edinburgh mail was to be found here; andthat they had taken me on board a vessel which was by this time undersail for Ireland. "Well, " says his worship, "that is your story; now letus hear what account the gentleman gives of himself. What is yourname--ha, sirrah? and from what part of Tipperary are you pleased tocome?" I had already taken my determination upon this article; and themoment I learned the particulars of the charge against me, resolved, forthe present at least, to lay aside my Irish accent, and speak my nativetongue. This I had done in the very few words I had spoken to myconductors in the anti-room: they started at the metamorphosis; but theyhad gone too far for it to be possible they should retract, inconsistence with their honour. I now told the justice that I was noIrishman, nor had ever been in that country: I was a native of England. This occasioned a consulting of the deposition in which my person wassupposed to be described, and which my conductors had brought with themfor their direction. To be sure, that required that the offender shouldbe an Irishman. 

Observing his worship hesitate, I thought this was the time to push thematter a little further. I referred to the paper, and showed that thedescription neither tallied as to height nor complexion. But then it didas to years and the colour of the hair; and it was not this gentleman'shabit, as he informed me, to squabble about trifles, or to let a man'sneck out of the halter for a pretended flaw of a few inches in hisstature. "If a man were too short, " he said, "there was no remedy like alittle stretching. " The miscalculation in my case happened to be theopposite way, but his reverence did not think proper to lose his jest. Upon the whole, he was somewhat at a loss how to proceed. 

My conductors observed this, and began to tremble for the reward, which, two hours ago, they thought as good as in their own pocket. To retain mein custody they judged to be a safe speculation; if it turned out amistake at last, they felt little apprehension of a suit for falseimprisonment from a poor man, accoutred as I was, in rags. Theytherefore urged his worship to comply with their views. They told himthat to be sure the evidence against me did not prove so strong as fortheir part they heartily wished it had, but that there were a number ofsuspicious circumstances respecting me. When I was brought up to themupon the deck of the vessel, I spoke as fine an Irish brogue as oneshall hear in a summer's day; and now, all at once, there was not theleast particle of it left. In searching me they had found upon mefifteen guineas, how should a poor beggar lad, such as I appeared, comehonestly by fifteen guineas? Besides, when they had stripped me naked, though my dress was so shabby my skin had all the sleekness of agentleman. In fine, for what purpose could a poor beggar, who had neverbeen in Ireland in his life, want to transport himself to that country?It was as clear as the sun that I was no better than I should be. Thisreasoning, together with some significant winks and gestures between thejustice and the plaintiffs, brought him over to their way of thinking. He said, I must go to Warwick, where it seems the other robber was atpresent in custody, and be confronted with him; and if then every thingappeared fair and satisfactory, I should be discharged. 

No intelligence could be more terrible than that which was contained inthese words. That I, who had found the whole country in arms against me, who was exposed to a pursuit so peculiarly vigilant and penetrating, should now be dragged to the very centre of the kingdom, without powerof accommodating myself to circumstances, and under the immediatecustody of the officers of justice, seemed to my ears almost the samething as if he had pronounced upon me a sentence of death! I strenuouslyurged the injustice of this proceeding. I observed to the magistrate, that it was impossible I should be the person at whom the descriptionpointed. It required an Irishman; I was no Irishman. It described aperson shorter than I; a circumstance of all others the least capable ofbeing counterfeited. There was not the slightest reason for detaining mein custody. I had been already disappointed of my voyage, and lost themoney I had paid, down, through the officiousness of these gentlemen inapprehending me. I assured his worship, that every delay, under mycircumstances, was of the utmost importance to me. It was impossible todevise a greater injury to be inflicted on me, than the proposal that, instead of being permitted to proceed upon my voyage, I should be sent, under arrest, into the heart of the kingdom. 

My remonstrances were vain. The justice was by no means inclined todigest the being expostulated with in this manner by a person in thehabiliments of a beggar. In the midst of my address he would havesilenced me for my impertinence, but that I spoke with an earnestnesswith which he was wholly unable to contend. When I had finished, he toldme it was all to no purpose, and that it might have been better for me, if I had shown myself less insolent. It was clear that I was a vagabondand a suspicious person. The more earnest I showed myself to get off, the more reason there was he should keep me fast. Perhaps, after all, Ishould turn out to be the felon in question. But, if I was not that, hehad no doubt I was worse; a poacher, or, for what he knew, a murderer. He had a kind of a notion that he had seen my face before about somesuch affair; out of all doubt I was an old offender. He had it in hischoice to send me to hard labour as a vagrant, upon the strength of myappearance and the contradictions in my story, or to order me toWarwick; and, out of the spontaneous goodness of his disposition, hechose the milder side of the alternative. He could assure me I shouldnot slip through his fingers. It was of more benefit to his majesty'sgovernment to hang one such fellow as he suspected me to be, than, outof mistaken tenderness, to concern one's self for the good of all thebeggars in the nation. 

Finding it was impossible to work, in the way I desired, on a man sofully impressed with his own dignity and importance and my utterinsignificance, I claimed that, at least, the money taken from my personshould be restored to me. This was granted. His worship perhapssuspected that he had stretched a point in what he had already done, and was therefore the less unwilling to relax in this incidentalcircumstance. My conductors did not oppose themselves to thisindulgence, for a reason that will appear in the sequel. The justicehowever enlarged upon his clemency in this proceeding. He did not knowwhether he was not exceeding the spirit of his commission in complyingwith my demand. So much money in my possession could not be honestlycome by. But it was his temper to soften, as far as could be done withpropriety, the strict letter of the law. 

There were cogent reasons why the gentlemen who had originally taken meinto custody, chose that I should continue in their custody when myexamination was over. Every man is, in his different mode, susceptibleto a sense of honour; and they did not choose to encounter the disgracethat would accrue to them, if justice had been done. Every man is insome degree influenced by the love of power; and they were willing Ishould owe any benefit I received, to their sovereign grace andbenignity, and not to the mere reason of the case. It was not however anunsubstantial honour and barren power that formed the objects of theirpursuit: no, their views were deeper than that. In a word, though theychose that I should retire from the seat of justice, as I had comebefore it, a prisoner, yet the tenor of my examination had obliged them, in spite of themselves, to suspect that I was innocent of the chargealleged against me. Apprehensive therefore that the hundred guineaswhich had been offered as a reward for taking the robber was completelyout of the question in the present business, they were contented tostrike at smaller game. Having conducted me to an inn, and givendirections respecting a vehicle for the journey, they took me aside, while one of them addressed me in the following manner:--

"You see, my lad, how the case stands: hey for Warwick is the word I andwhen we are got there, what may happen then I will not pretend for tosay. Whether you are innocent or no is no business of mine; but you arenot such a chicken as to suppose, if so be as you are innocent, thatthat will make your game altogether sure. You say your business callsyou another way, and as how you are in haste: I scorns to cross any manin his concerns, if I can help it. If therefore you will give us themthere fifteen shiners, why snug is the word. They are of no use to you;a beggar, you know, is always at home. For the matter of that, we couldhave had them in the way of business, as you saw, at the justice's. ButI am a man of principle; I loves to do things above board, and scorns toextort a shilling from any man. "

He who is tinctured with principles of moral discrimination is apt uponoccasion to be run away with by his feelings in that respect, and toforget the immediate interest of the moment. I confess, that the firstsentiment excited in my mind by this overture was that of indignation. Iwas irresistibly impelled to give utterance to this feeling, andpostpone for a moment the consideration of the future. I replied withthe severity which so base a proceeding appeared to deserve. Mybear-leaders were considerably surprised with my firmness, but seemed tothink it beneath them to contest with me the principles I delivered. Hewho had made the overture contented himself with replying, "Well, well, my lad, do as you will; you are not the first man that has been hangedrather than part with a few guineas. " His words did not pass unheeded byme. They were strikingly applicable to my situation, and I wasdetermined not to suffer the occasion to escape me unimproved. 

The pride of these gentlemen however was too great to admit of furtherparley for the present. They left me abruptly; having first ordered anold man, the father of the landlady, to stay in the room with me whilethey were absent. The old man they ordered, for security, to lock thedoor, and put the key in his pocket; at the same time mentioning belowstairs the station in which they had left me, that the people of thehouse might have an eye upon what went forward, and not suffer me toescape. What was the intention of this manoeuvre I am unable certainlyto pronounce. Probably it was a sort of compromise between their prideand their avarice; being desirous, for some reason or other, to drop meas soon as convenient, and therefore determining to wait the result ofmy private meditations on the proposal they had made. 

CHAPTER VII. 

They were no sooner withdrawn than I cast my eye upon the old man, andfound something extremely venerable and interesting in his appearance. His form was above the middle size. It indicated that his strength hadbeen once considerable; nor was it at this time by any meansannihilated. His hair was in considerable quantity, and was as white asthe drifted snow. His complexion was healthful and ruddy, at the sametime that his face was furrowed with wrinkles. In his eye there wasremarkable vivacity, and his whole countenance was strongly expressiveof good-nature. The boorishness of his rank in society was lost in thecultivation his mind had derived from habits of sensibility andbenevolence. 

The view of his figure immediately introduced a train of ideas into mymind, respecting the advantage to be drawn from the presence of such aperson. The attempt to take any step without his consent was hopeless;for, though I should succeed with regard to him, he could easily givethe alarm to other persons, who would, no doubt, be within call. Add towhich, I could scarcely have prevailed on myself to offer any offence toa person whose first appearance so strongly engaged my affection andesteem. In reality my thoughts were turned into a different channel. Iwas impressed with an ardent wish to be able to call this man mybenefactor. Pursued by a train of ill fortune, I could no longerconsider myself as a member of society. I was a solitary being, cut offfrom the expectation of sympathy, kindness, and the good-will ofmankind. I was strongly impelled, by the situation in which the presentmoment placed me, to indulge in a luxury which my destiny seemed to havedenied. I could not conceive the smallest comparison between the idea ofderiving my liberty from the spontaneous kindness of a worthy andexcellent mind, and that of being indebted for it to the selfishness andbaseness of the worst members of society. It was thus that I allowedmyself in the wantonness of refinement, even in the midst ofdestruction. 

Guided by these sentiments, I requested his attention to thecircumstances by which I had been brought into my present situation. Heimmediately signified his assent, and said he would cheerfully listen toany thing I thought proper to communicate. I told him, the persons whohad just left me in charge with him had come to this town for thepurpose of apprehending some person who had been guilty of robbing themail; that they had chosen to take me up under this warrant, and hadconducted me before a justice of the peace; that they had soon detectedtheir mistake, the person in question being an Irishman, and differingfrom me both in country and stature; but that, by collusion between themand the justice, they were permitted to retain me in custody, andpretended to undertake to conduct me to Warwick to confront me with myaccomplice; that, in searching me at the justice's, they had found a sumof money in my possession which excited their cupidity, and that theyhad just been proposing to me to give me my liberty upon condition of mysurrendering this sum into their hands. Under these circumstances, Irequested him to consider, whether he would wish to render himself theinstrument of their extortion. I put myself into his hands, and solemnlyaverred the truth of the facts I had just stated. If he would assist mein my escape, it could have no other effect than to disappoint the basepassions of my conductors. I would upon no account expose him to anyreal inconvenience; but I was well assured that the same generosity thatshould prompt him to a good deed, would enable him effectually tovindicate it when done; and that those who detained me, when they hadlost sight of their prey, would feel covered with confusion, and notdare to take another step in the affair. 

The old man listened to what I related with curiosity and interest. Hesaid that he had always felt an abhorrence to the sort of people who hadme in their hands; that he had an aversion to the task they had justimposed upon him, but that he could not refuse some little disagreeableoffices to oblige his daughter and son-in-law. He had no doubt, from mycountenance and manner, of the truth of what I had asserted to him. Itwas an extraordinary request I had made, and he did not know what hadinduced me to think him the sort of person to whom, with any prospect ofsuccess, it might be made. In reality however his habits of thinkingwere uncommon, and he felt more than half inclined to act as I desired. One thing at least he would ask of me in return, which was to befaithfully informed in some degree respecting the person he was desiredto oblige. What was my name?

The question came upon me unprepared. But, whatever might be theconsequence, I could not bear to deceive the person by whom it was put, and in the circumstances under which it was put. The practice ofperpetual falsehood is too painful a task. I replied, that my name wasWilliams. 

He paused. His eye was fixed upon me. I saw his complexion alter at therepetition of that word. He proceeded with visible anxiety. 

My Christian name?

Caleb. 

Good God! it could not be ----? He conjured me by every thing that wassacred to answer him faithfully to one question more. I was not--no, itwas impossible--the person who had formerly lived servant with Mr. Falkland, of ----?

I told him that, whatever might be the meaning of his question, I wouldanswer him truly. I was the individual he mentioned. 

As I uttered these words the old man rose from his seat. He was sorrythat fortune had been so unpropitious to him, as for him ever to haveset eyes upon me! I was a monster with whom the very earth groaned!

I entreated that he would suffer me to explain this newmisapprehension, as he had done in the former instance. I had no doubtthat I should do it equally to his satisfaction. 

No! no! no! he would upon no consideration admit, that his ears shouldsuffer such contamination. This case and the other were very different. There was no criminal upon the face of the earth, no murderer, half sodetestable as the person who could prevail upon himself to utter thecharges I had done, by way of recrimination, against so generous amaster. --The old man was in a perfect agony with the recollection. 

At length he calmed himself enough to say, he should never cease togrieve that he had held a moment's parley with me. He did not know whatwas the conduct severe justice required of him; but, since he had comeinto the knowledge of who I was only by my own confession, it wasirreconcilably repugnant to his feelings to make use of that knowledgeto my injury. Here therefore all relation between us ceased; as indeedit would be an abuse of words to consider me in the light of a humancreature. He would do me no mischief; but, on the other hand, he wouldnot, for the world, be in any way assisting and abetting me. 

I was inexpressibly affected at the abhorrence this good and benevolentcreature expressed against me. I could not be silent; I endeavoured onceand again to prevail upon him to hear me. But his determination wasunalterable. Our contest lasted for some time, and he at lengthterminated it by ringing the bell, and calling up the waiter. A verylittle while after, my conductors entered, and the other personswithdrew. 

It was a part of the singularity of my fate that it hurried me from onespecies of anxiety and distress to another, too rapidly to suffer anyone of them to sink deeply into my mind. I am apt to believe, in theretrospect, that half the calamities I was destined to endure wouldinfallibly have overwhelmed and destroyed me. But, as it was, I had noleisure to chew the cud upon misfortunes as they befel me, but was underthe necessity of forgetting them, to guard against peril that the nextmoment seemed ready to crush me. 

The behaviour of this incomparable and amiable old man cut me to theheart. It was a dreadful prognostic for all my future life. But, as Ihave just observed, my conductors entered, and another subject calledimperiously upon my attention. I could have been content, mortified as Iwas at this instant, to have been shut up in some impenetrable solitude, and to have wrapped myself in inconsolable misery. But the grief Iendured had not such power over me as that I could be content to riskthe being led to the gallows. The love of life, and still more a hatredagainst oppression, steeled my heart against that species of inertness. In the scene that had just passed I had indulged, as I have said, in awantonness and luxury of refinement. It was time that indulgence shouldbe brought to a period. It was dangerous to trifle any more upon thebrink of fate; and, penetrated as I was with sadness by the result of mylast attempt, I was little disposed to unnecessary circumambulation. 

I was exactly in the temper in which the gentlemen who had me in theirpower would have desired to find me. Accordingly we entered immediatelyupon business; and, after some chaffering, they agreed to accept elevenguineas as the price of my freedom. To preserve however the chariness oftheir reputation, they insisted upon conducting me with them for a fewmiles on the outside of a stage-coach. They then pretended that the roadthey had to travel lay in a cross country direction; and, havingquitted the vehicle, they suffered me, almost as soon as it was out ofsight, to shake off this troublesome association, and follow my owninclinations. It may be worth remarking by the way, that these fellowsoutwitted themselves at their own trade. They had laid hold of me atfirst under the idea of a prize of a hundred guineas; they had sincebeen glad to accept a composition of eleven: but if they had retained mea little longer in their possession, they would have found thepossibility of acquiring the sum that had originally excited theirpursuit, upon a different score. 

The mischances that had befallen me, in my late attempt to escape frommy pursuers by sea, deterred me from the thought of repeating thatexperiment. I therefore once more returned to the suggestion of hidingmyself, at least for the present, amongst the crowds of the metropolis. Meanwhile, I by no means thought proper to venture by the direct route, and the less so, as that was the course which would be steered by mylate conductors; but took my road along the borders of Wales. The onlyincident worth relating in this place occurred in an attempt to crossthe Severn in a particular point. The mode was by a ferry; but, by somestrange inadvertence, I lost my way so completely as to be wholly unablethat night to reach the ferry, and arrive at the town which I haddestined for my repose. 

This may seem a petty disappointment, in the midst of the overwhelmingconsiderations that might have been expected to engross every thought ofmy mind. Yet it was borne by me with singular impatience. I was that dayuncommonly fatigued. Previously to the time that I mistook, or at leastwas aware of the mistake of the road, the sky had become black andlowring, and soon after the clouds burst down in sheets of rain. I wasin the midst of a heath, without a tree or covering of any sort toshelter me. I was thoroughly drenched in a moment. I pushed on with asort of sullen determination. By and by the rain gave place to a stormof hail. The hail-stones were large and frequent. I was ill defended bythe miserable covering I wore, and they seemed to cut me in a thousanddirections. The hail-storm subsided, and was again succeeded by a heavyrain. By this time it was that I had perceived I was wholly out of myroad. I could discover neither man nor beast, nor habitation of anykind. I walked on, measuring at every turn the path it would be properto pursue, but in no instance finding a sufficient reason to reject oneor prefer another. My mind was bursting with depression and anguish. Imuttered imprecations and murmuring as I passed along. I was full ofloathing and abhorrence of life, and all that life carries in its train. After wandering without any certain direction for two hours, I wasovertaken by the night. The scene was nearly pathless, and it was vainto think of proceeding any farther. 

Here I was, without comfort, without shelter, and without food. Therewas not a particle of my covering that was not as wet as if it had beenfished from the bottom of the ocean. My teeth chattered. I trembled inevery limb. My heart burned with universal fury. At one moment Istumbled and fell over some unseen obstacle; at another I was turnedback by an impediment I could not overcome. 

There was no strict connection between these casual inconveniences andthe persecution under which I laboured. But my distempered thoughtsconfounded them together. I cursed the whole system of human existence. I said, "Here I am, an outcast, destined to perish with hunger and cold. All men desert me. All men hate me. I am driven with mortal threatsfrom the sources of comfort and existence. Accursed world! that hateswithout a cause, that overwhelms innocence with calamities which oughtto be spared even to guilt! Accursed world! dead to every manlysympathy; with eyes of horn, and hearts of steel! Why do I consent tolive any longer? Why do I seek to drag on an existence, which, ifprotracted, must be protracted amidst the lairs of these human tigers?"

This paroxysm at length exhausted itself. Presently after, I discovereda solitary shed, which I was contented to resort to for shelter. In acorner of the shed I found some clean straw. I threw off my rags, placedthem in a situation where they would best be dried, and buried myselfamidst this friendly warmth. Here I forgot by degrees the anguish thathad racked me. A wholesome shed and fresh straw may seem but scantybenefits; but they offered themselves when least expected, and my wholeheart was lightened by the encounter. Through fatigue of mind and body, it happened in this instance, though in general my repose was remarkablyshort, that I slept till almost noon of the next day. When I rose, Ifound that I was at no great distance from the ferry, which I crossed, and entered the town where I intended to have rested the precedingnight. 

It was market-day. As I passed near the cross, I observed two peoplelook at me with great earnestness: after which one of them exclaimed, "Iwill be damned if I do not think that this is the very fellow those menwere enquiring for who set off an hour ago by the coach for ----. " I wasextremely alarmed at this information; and, quickening my pace, turnedsharp down a narrow lane. The moment I was out of sight I ran with allthe speed I could exert, and did not think myself safe till I wasseveral miles distant from the place where this information had reachedmy ears. I have always believed that the men to whom it related were thevery persons who had apprehended me on board the ship in which I hadembarked for Ireland; that, by some accident, they had met with thedescription of my person as published on the part of Mr. Falkland; andthat, from putting together the circumstances, they had been led tobelieve that this was the very individual who had lately been in theircustody. Indeed it was a piece of infatuation in me, for which I am nowunable to account, that, after the various indications which hadoccurred in that affair, proving to them that I was a man in criticaland peculiar circumstances, I should have persisted in wearing the samedisguise without the smallest alteration. My escape in the present casewas eminently fortunate. If I had not lost my way in consequence of thehail-storm on the preceding night, or if I had not so greatly oversleptmyself this very morning, I must almost infallibly have fallen into thehands of these infernal blood-hunters. 

The town they had chosen for their next stage, the name of which I hadthus caught in the market-place, was the town to which, but for thisintimation, I should have immediately proceeded. As it was, I determinedto take a road as wide of it as possible. In the first place to which Icame, in which it was practicable to do so, I bought a great coat, whichI drew over my beggar's weeds, and a better hat. The hat I slouched overmy face, and covered one of my eyes with a green-silk shade. Thehandkerchief, which I had hitherto worn about my head, I now tied aboutthe lower part of my visage, so as to cover my mouth. By degrees Idiscarded every part of my former dress, and wore for my upper garmenta kind of carman's frock, which, being of the better sort, made me looklike the son of a reputable farmer of the lower class. Thus equipped, Iproceeded on my journey, and, after a thousand alarms, precautions, andcircuitous deviations from the direct path, arrived safely in London. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Here then was the termination of an immense series of labours, uponwhich no man could have looked back without astonishment, or forwardwithout a sentiment bordering on despair. It was at a price which defiesestimation that I had purchased this resting-place; whether we considerthe efforts it had cost me to escape from the walls of my prison, or thedangers and anxieties to which I had been a prey, from that hour to thepresent. 

But why do I call the point at which I was now arrived at aresting-place? Alas, it was diametrically the reverse! It was my firstand immediate business to review all the projects of disguise I hadhitherto conceived, to derive every improvement I could invent from thepractice to which I had been subjected, and to manufacture a veil ofconcealment more impenetrable than ever. This was an effort to which Icould see no end. In ordinary cases the hue and cry after a supposedoffender is a matter of temporary operation; but ordinary cases formedno standard for the colossal intelligence of Mr. Falkland. For the samereason, London, which appears an inexhaustible reservoir of concealmentto the majority of mankind, brought no such consolatory sentiment to mymind. Whether life were worth accepting on such terms I cannotpronounce. I only know that I persisted in this exertion of myfaculties, through a sort of parental love that men are accustomed toentertain for their intellectual offspring; the more thought I hadexpended in rearing it to its present perfection, the less did I findmyself disposed to abandon it. Another motive, not less strenuouslyexciting me to perseverance, was the ever-growing repugnance I felt toinjustice and arbitrary power. 

The first evening of my arrival in town I slept at an obscure inn in theborough of Southwark, choosing that side of the metropolis, on accountof its lying entirely wide of the part of England from which I came. Ientered the inn in the evening in my countryman's frock; and, havingpaid for my lodging before I went to bed, equipped myself next morningas differently as my wardrobe would allow, and left the house beforeday. The frock I made up into a small packet, and, having carried it toa distance as great as I thought necessary, I dropped it in the cornerof an alley through which I passed. My next care was to furnish myselfwith another suit of apparel, totally different from any to which I hadhitherto had recourse. The exterior which I was now induced to assumewas that of a Jew. One of the gang of thieves upon ---- forest, had beenof that race; and by the talent of mimicry, which I have already statedmyself to possess, I could copy their pronunciation of the Englishlanguage, sufficiently to answer such occasions as were likely topresent themselves. One of the preliminaries I adopted, was to repair toa quarter of the town in which great numbers of this people reside, andstudy their complexion and countenance. Having made such provision as myprudence suggested to me, I retired for that night to an inn in themidway between Mile-end and Wapping. Here I accoutred myself in ray newhabiliments; and, having employed the same precautions as before, retired from my lodging at a time least exposed to observation. It isunnecessary to describe the particulars of my new equipage; suffice itto say, that one of my cares was to discolour my complexion, and give itthe dun and sallow hue which is in most instances characteristic of thetribe to which I assumed to belong; and that when my metamorphosis wasfinished, I could not, upon the strictest examination, conceive that anyone could have traced out the person of Caleb Williams in this newdisguise. 

Thus far advanced in the execution of my project. I deemed it advisableto procure a lodging, and change my late wandering life for a stationaryone. In this lodging I constantly secluded myself from the rising to thesetting of the sun; the periods I allowed for exercise and air were few, and those few by night. I was even cautious of so much as approachingthe window of my apartment, though upon the attic story; a principle Ilaid down to myself was, not wantonly and unnecessarily to expose myselfto risk, however slight that risk might appear. 

Here let me pause for a moment, to bring before the reader, in the wayin which it was impressed upon my mind, the nature of my situation. Iwas born free: I was born healthy, vigorous, and active, complete in allthe lineaments and members of a human body. I was not born indeed to thepossession of hereditary wealth; but I had a better inheritance, anenterprising mind, an inquisitive spirit, a liberal ambition. In a word, I accepted my lot with willingness and content; I did not fear but Ishould make my cause good in the lists of existence. I was satisfied toaim at small things; I was pleased to play at first for a slender stake;I was more willing to grow than to descend in my individualsignificance. 

The free spirit and the firm heart with which I commenced, onecircumstance was sufficient to blast. I was ignorant of the power whichthe institutions of society give to one man over others; I had fallenunwarily into the hands of a person who held it as his fondest wish tooppress and destroy me. 

I found myself subjected, undeservedly on my part, to all thedisadvantages which mankind, if they reflected upon them, would hesitateto impose on acknowledged guilt. In every human countenance I feared tofind the countenance of an enemy. I shrunk from the vigilance of everyhuman eye. I dared not open my heart to the best affections of ournature. I was shut up, a deserted, solitary wretch, in the midst of myspecies. I dared not look for the consolations of friendship; but, instead of seeking to identify myself with the joys and sorrows ofothers, and exchanging the delicious gifts of confidence and sympathy, was compelled to centre my thoughts and my vigilance in myself. My lifewas all a lie. I had a counterfeit character to support. I hadcounterfeit manners to assume. My gait, my gestures, my accents, wereall of them to be studied. I was not free to indulge, no not one, honestsally of the soul. Attended with these disadvantages, I was to procuremyself a subsistence, a subsistence to be acquired with infiniteprecautions, and to be consumed without the hope of enjoyment. 

This, even this, I was determined to endure; to put my shoulder to theburthen, and support it with unshrinking firmness. Let it not however besupposed that I endured it without repining and abhorrence. My time wasdivided between the terrors of an animal that skulks from its pursuers, the obstinacy of unshrinking firmness, and that elastic revulsion thatfrom time to time seems to shrivel the very hearts of the miserable. Ifat some moments I fiercely defied all the rigours of my fate, at others, and those of frequent recurrence, I sunk into helpless despondence. Ilooked forward without hope through the series of my existence, tears ofanguish rushed from my eyes, my courage became extinct, and I cursed theconscious life that was reproduced with every returning day. 

"Why, " upon such occasions I was accustomed to exclaim, "why am Ioverwhelmed with the load of existence? Why are all these engines atwork to torment me? I am no murderer; yet, if I were, what worse could Ibe fated to suffer? How vile, squalid, and disgraceful is the state towhich I am condemned! This is not my place in the roll of existence, theplace for which either my temper or my understanding has prepared me! Towhat purpose serve the restless aspirations of my soul, but to make me, like a frighted bird, beat myself in vain against the enclosure of mycage? Nature, barbarous nature! to me thou hast proved indeed the worstof step-mothers; endowed me with wishes insatiate, and sunk me innever-ending degradation!"

I might have thought myself more secure if I had been in possession ofmoney upon which to subsist. The necessity of earning for myself themeans of existence, evidently tended to thwart the plan of secrecy towhich I was condemned. Whatever labour I adopted, or deemed myselfqualified to discharge, it was first to be considered how I was to beprovided with employment, and where I was to find an employer orpurchaser for my commodities. In the mean time I had no alternative. The little money with which I had escaped from the blood-hunters wasalmost expended. 

After the minutest consideration I was able to bestow upon thisquestion. I determined that literature should be the field of my firstexperiment. I had read of money being acquired in this way, and ofprices given by the speculators in this sort of ware to its propermanufacturers. My qualifications I esteemed at a slender valuation. Iwas not without a conviction that experience and practice must pave theway to excellent production. But, though of these I was utterlydestitute, my propensities had always led me in this direction; and myearly thirst of knowledge had conducted me to a more intimateacquaintance with books, than could perhaps have been expected under mycircumstances. If my literary pretensions were slight, the demand Iintended to make upon them was not great. All I asked was a subsistence;and I was persuaded few persons could subsist upon slenderer means thanmyself. I also considered this as a temporary expedient, and hoped thataccident or time might hereafter place me in a less precarioussituation. The reasons that principally determined my choice were, thatthis employment called upon me for the least preparation, and could, asI thought, be exercised with least observation. 

There was a solitary woman, of middle age, who tenanted a chamber inthis house, upon the same floor with my own. I had no sooner determinedupon the destination of my industry than I cast my eye upon her as thepossible instrument for disposing of my productions. Excluded as I wasfrom all intercourse with my species in general, I found pleasure in theoccasional exchange of a few words with this inoffensive andgood-humoured creature, who was already of an age to preclude scandal. She lived upon a very small annuity, allowed her by a distant relation, a woman of quality, who, possessed of thousands herself, had no otheranxiety with respect to this person than that she should not contaminateher alliance by the exertion of honest industry. This humble creaturewas of a uniformly cheerful and active disposition, unacquainted alikewith the cares of wealth and the pressure of misfortune. Though herpretensions were small, and her information slender, she was by no meansdeficient in penetration. She remarked the faults and follies of mankindwith no contemptible discernment; but her temper was of so mild andforgiving a cast, as would have induced most persons to believe that sheperceived nothing of the matter. Her heart overflowed with the milk ofkindness. She was sincere and ardent in her attachments, and never didshe omit a service which she perceived herself able to render to a humanbeing. 

Had it not been for these qualifications of temper, I should probablyhave found that my appearance, that of a deserted, solitary lad, ofJewish extraction, effectually precluded my demands upon her kindness. But I speedily perceived, from her manner of receiving and returningcivilities of an indifferent sort, that her heart was too noble to haveits effusions checked by any base and unworthy considerations. Encouraged by these preliminaries, I determined to select her as myagent. I found her willing and alert in the business I proposed to her. That I might anticipate occasions of suspicion, I frankly told her that, for reasons which I wished to be excused from relating, but which, ifrelated, I was sure would not deprive me of her good opinion, I found itnecessary, for the present, to keep myself private. With this statementshe readily acquiesced, and told me that she had no desire for anyfurther information than I found it expedient to give. 

My first productions were of the poetical kind. After having finishedtwo or three, I directed this generous creature to take them to theoffice of a newspaper; but they were rejected with contempt by theAristarchus of that place, who, having bestowed on them a superficialglance, told her that such matters were not in his way. I cannot helpmentioning in this place, that the countenance of Mrs. Marney (this wasthe name of my ambassadress) was in all cases a perfect indication ofher success, and rendered explanation by words wholly unnecessary. Sheinterested herself so unreservedly in what she undertook, that she felteither miscarriage or good fortune much more exquisitely than I did. Ihad an unhesitating confidence in my own resources, and, occupied as Iwas in meditations more interesting and more painful, I regarded thesematters as altogether trivial. 

I quietly took the pieces back, and laid them upon my table. Uponrevisal, I altered and transcribed one of them, and, joining it with twoothers, despatched them together to the editor of a magazine. He desiredthey might be left with him till the day after to-morrow. When that daycame he told my friend they should be inserted; but, Mrs. Marney askingrespecting the price, he replied, it was their constant rule to givenothing for poetical compositions, the letter-box being always full ofwritings of that sort; but if the gentleman would try his hand in prose, a short essay or a tale, he would see what he could do for him. 

With the requisition of my literary dictator I immediately complied. Iattempted a paper in the style of Addison's Spectators, which wasaccepted. In a short time I was upon an established footing in thisquarter. I however distrusted my resources in the way of moraldisquisition, and soon turned my thoughts to his other suggestion, atale. His demands upon me were now frequent, and, to facilitate mylabours, I bethought myself of the resource of translation. I hadscarcely any convenience with respect to the procuring of books; but, asmy memory was retentive, I frequently translated or modelled mynarrative upon a reading of some years before. By a fatality, for whichI did not exactly know how to account, my thoughts frequently led me tothe histories of celebrated robbers; and I related, from time to time, incidents and anecdotes of Cartouche, Gusman d'Alfarache, and othermemorable worthies, whose career was terminated upon the gallows or thescaffold. 

In the mean time a retrospect to my own situation rendered aperseverance even in this industry difficult to be maintained. I oftenthrew down my pen in an ecstasy of despair. Sometimes for whole daystogether I was incapable of action, and sunk into a sort of partialstupor, too wretched to be described. Youth and health however enabledme, from time to time, to get the better of my dejection, and to rousemyself to something like a gaiety, which, if it had been permanent, might have made this interval of my story tolerable to my reflections. 

CHAPTER IX. 

While I was thus endeavouring to occupy and provide for the intermediateperiod, till the violence of the pursuit after me might be abated, anew source of danger opened upon me of which I had no previoussuspicion. 

Gines, the thief who had been expelled from Captain Raymond's gang, hadfluctuated, during the last years of his life, between the twoprofessions of a violator of the laws and a retainer to theiradministration. He had originally devoted himself to the first; andprobably his initiation in the mysteries of thieving qualified him to bepeculiarly expert in the profession of a thief-taker--a profession hehad adopted, not from choice, but necessity. In this employment hisreputation was great, though perhaps not equal to his merits; for ithappens here as in other departments of human society, that, however thesubalterns may furnish wisdom and skill, the principals exclusivelypossess the _éclat_. He was exercising this art in a very prosperousmanner, when it happened, by some accident, that one or two of hisachievements previous to his having shaken off the dregs of unlicenseddepredation were in danger of becoming subjects of public attention. Having had repeated intimations of this, he thought it prudent todecamp; and it was during this period of his retreat that he enteredinto the ---- gang. 

Such was the history of this man antecedently to his being placed in thesituation in which I had first encountered him. At the time of thatencounter he was a veteran of Captain Raymond's gang; for thieves beinga short-lived race, the character of veteran costs the less time inacquiring. Upon his expulsion from this community he returned once moreto his lawful profession, and by his old comrades was received withcongratulation as a lost sheep. In the vulgar classes of society nolength of time is sufficient to expiate a crime; but among thehonourable fraternity of thief-takers it is a rule never to bring one oftheir own brethren to a reckoning when it can with any decency beavoided. They are probably reluctant to fix an unnecessary stain uponthe ermine of their profession. Another rule observed by those who havepassed through the same gradation as Gines had done, and which wasadopted by Gines himself, is always to reserve such as have been theaccomplices of their depredations to the last, and on no account toassail them without great necessity or powerful temptation. For thisreason, according to Gines's system of tactics, Captain Raymond and hisconfederates were, as he would have termed it, safe from hisretaliation. 

But, though Gines was, in this sense of the term, a man of stricthonour, my case unfortunately did not fall within the laws of honour heacknowledged. Misfortune had overtaken me, and I was on all sideswithout protection or shelter. The persecution to which I was exposedwas founded upon the supposition of my having committed felony to animmense amount. But in this Gines had had no participation; he wascareless whether the supposition were true or false, and hated me asmuch as if my innocence had been established beyond the reach ofsuspicion. 

The blood-hunters who had taken me into custody at ----, related, asusual among their fraternity, a part of their adventure, and told of thereason which inclined them to suppose, that the individual who hadpassed through their custody, was the very Caleb Williams for whoseapprehension a reward had been offered of a hundred guineas. Gines, whose acuteness was eminent in the way of his profession, by comparingfacts and dates, was induced to suspect in his own mind, that CalebWilliams was the person he had hustled and wounded upon ---- forest. Against that person he entertained the bitterest aversion. I had beenthe innocent occasion of his being expelled with disgrace from CaptainRaymond's gang; and Gines, as I afterwards understood, was intimatelypersuaded that there was no comparison between the liberal and manlyprofession of a robber from which I had driven him, and the sordid andmechanical occupation of a blood-hunter, to which he was obliged toreturn. He no sooner received the information I have mentioned than hevowed revenge. He determined to leave all other objects, and consecrateevery faculty of his mind to the unkennelling me from my hiding-place. The offered reward, which his vanity made him consider as assuredly hisown, appeared as the complete indemnification of his labour and expense. Thus I had to encounter the sagacity he possessed in the way of hisprofession, whetted and stimulated by a sentiment of vengeance, in amind that knew no restraint from conscience or humanity. 

When I drew to myself a picture of my situation soon after having fixedon my present abode, I foolishly thought, as the unhappy are accustomedto do, that my calamity would admit of no aggravation. The aggravationwhich, unknown to me, at this time occurred was the most fearful thatany imagination could have devised. Nothing could have happened morecritically hostile to my future peace, than my fatal encounter withGines upon ---- forest. By this means, as it now appears, I had fastenedupon myself a second enemy, of that singular and dreadful sort that isdetermined never to dismiss its animosity as long as life shall endure. While Falkland was the hungry lion whose roarings astonished andappalled me, Gines was a noxious insect, scarcely less formidable andtremendous, that hovered about my goings, and perpetually menaced mewith the poison of his sting. 

The first step pursued by him in execution of his project, was to setout for the sea-port town where I had formerly been apprehended. Fromthence he traced me to the banks of the Severn, and from the banks ofthe Severn to London. It is scarcely necessary to observe that this isalways practicable, provided the pursuer have motives strong enough toexcite him to perseverance, unless the precautions of the fugitive be, in the highest degree, both judicious in the conception, and fortunatein the execution. Gines indeed, in the course of his pursuit, was oftenobliged to double his steps; and, like the harrier, whenever he was at afault, return to the place where he had last perceived the scent of theanimal whose death he had decreed. He spared neither pains nor time inthe gratification of the passion, which choice had made his ruling one. 

Upon my arrival in town he for a moment lost all trace of me, Londonbeing a place in which, on account of the magnitude of its dimensions, it might well be supposed that an individual could remain hidden andunknown. But no difficulty could discourage this new adversary. He wentfrom inn to inn (reasonably supposing that there was no private house towhich I could immediately repair), till he found, by the description hegave, and the recollections he excited, that I had slept for one nightin the borough of Southwark. But he could get no further information. The people of the inn had no knowledge what had become of me the nextmorning. 

This however did but render him more eager in the pursuit. Thedescribing me was now more difficult, on account of the partial changeof dress I had made the second day of my being in town. But Gines atlength overcame the obstacle from that quarter. 

Having traced me to my second inn, he was here furnished with a morecopious information. I had been a subject of speculation for the leisurehours of some of the persons belonging to this inn. An old woman, of amost curious and loquacious disposition, who lived opposite to it, andwho that morning rose early to her washing, had espied me from herwindow, by the light of a large lamp which hung over the inn, as Iissued from the gate. She had but a very imperfect view of me, but shethought there was something Jewish in my appearance. She was accustomedto hold a conference every morning with the landlady of the inn, some ofthe waiters and chambermaids occasionally assisting at it. In the courseof the dialogue of this morning, she asked some questions about the Jewwho had slept there the night before. No Jew had slept there. Thecuriosity of the landlady was excited in her turn. By the time of themorning it could be no other but me. It was very strange! They comparednotes respecting my appearance and dress. No two things could be moredissimilar. The Jew Christian, upon any dearth of subjects ofintelligence, repeatedly furnished matter for their discourse. 

The information thus afforded to Gines appeared exceedingly material. But the performance did not for some time keep pace with the promise. Hecould not enter every private house into which lodgers were everadmitted, in the same manner that he had treated the inns. He walked thestreets, and examined with a curious and inquisitive eye the countenanceof every Jew about my stature; but in vain. He repaired to Duke's Placeand the synagogues. It was not here that in reality he could calculateupon finding me; but he resorted to those means in despair, and as alast hope. He was more than once upon the point of giving up thepursuit; but he was recalled to it by an insatiable and restlessappetite for revenge. 

It was during this perturbed and fluctuating state of his mind, that hechanced to pay a visit to a brother of his, who was the head-workman ofa printing-office. There was little intercourse between these twopersons, their dispositions and habits of life being extremelydissimilar. The printer was industrious, sober, inclined to methodism, and of a propensity to accumulation. He was extremely dissatisfied withthe character and pursuits of his brother, and had made some ineffectualattempts to reclaim him. But, though they by no means agreed in theirhabits of thinking, they sometimes saw each other. Gines loved to boastof as many of his achievements as he dared venture to mention; and hisbrother was one more hearer, in addition to the set of his usualassociates. The printer was amused with the blunt sagacity of remark andnovelty of incident that characterised Gines's conversation. He wassecretly pleased, in spite of all his sober and church-going prejudices, that he was brother to a man of so much ingenuity and fortitude. 

After having listened for some time upon this occasion to the wonderfulstories which Gines, in his rugged way, condescended to tell, theprinter felt an ambition to entertain his brother in his turn. He beganto retail some of my stories of Cartouche and Gusman d'Alfarache. Theattention of Gines was excited. His first emotion was wonder; his secondwas envy and aversion. Where did the printer get these stories? Thisquestion was answered. "I will tell you what, " said the printer, "wenone of us know what to make of the writer of these articles. He writespoetry, and morality, and history: I am a printer, and corrector of thepress, and may pretend without vanity to be a tolerably good judge ofthese matters: he writes them all to my mind extremely fine; and yet heis no more than a Jew. " [To my honest printer this seemed as strange, asif they had been written by a Cherokee chieftain at the falls of theMississippi. ]

"A Jew! How do you know? Did you ever see him?"

"No; the matter is always brought to us by a woman. But my master hatesmysteries; he likes to see his authors himself. So he plagues andplagues the old woman; but he can never get any thing out of her, exceptthat one day she happened to drop that the young gentleman was a Jew. "

A Jew! a young gentleman! a person who did every thing by proxy, andmade a secret of all his motions! Here was abundant matter for thespeculations and suspicions of Gines. He was confirmed in them, withoutadverting to the process of his own mind, by the subject of mylucubrations, --men who died by the hand of the executioner. He saidlittle more to his brother, except asking, as if casually, what sort ofan old woman this was? of what age she might be? and whether she oftenbrought him materials of this kind? and soon after took occasion toleave him. It was with vast pleasure that Gines had listened to thisunhoped-for information. Having collected from his brother sufficienthints relative to the person and appearance of Mrs. Marney, andunderstanding that he expected to receive something from me the nextday, Gines took his stand in the street early, that he might not riskmiscarriage by negligence. He waited several hours, but not withoutsuccess. Mrs. Marney came; he watched her into the house; and afterabout twenty minutes delay, saw her return. He dogged her from streetto street; observed her finally enter the door of a private house; andcongratulated himself upon having at length arrived at the consummationof his labours. 

The house she entered was not her own habitation. By a sort ofmiraculous accident she had observed Gines following her in the street. As she went home she saw a woman who had fallen down in a fainting fit. Moved by the compassion that was ever alive in her, she approached her, in order to render her assistance. Presently a crowd collected roundthem. Mrs. Marney, having done what she was able, once more proceededhomewards. Observing the crowd round her, the idea of pickpocketsoccurred to her mind; she put her hands to her sides, and at the sametime looked round upon the populace. She had left the circle somewhatabruptly; and Gines, who had been obliged to come nearer, lest he shouldlose her in the confusion, was at that moment standing exactly oppositeto her. His visage was of the most extraordinary kind; habit had writtenthe characters of malignant cunning and dauntless effrontery in everyline of his face; and Mrs. Marney, who was neither philosopher norphysiognomist, was nevertheless struck. This good woman, like mostpersons of her notable character, had a peculiar way of going home, notthrough the open streets, but by narrow lanes and alleys, with intricateinsertions and sudden turnings. In one of these, by some accident, sheonce again caught a glance of her pursuer. This circumstance, togetherwith the singularity of his appearance, awakened her conjectures. Couldhe be following her? It was the middle of the day, and she could have nofears for herself. But could this circumstance have any reference to me?She recollected the precautions and secrecy I practised, and had nodoubt that I had reasons for what I did. She recollected that she hadalways been upon her guard respecting me; but had she been sufficientlyso? She thought that, if she should be the means of any mischief to me, she should be miserable for ever. She determined therefore, by way ofprecaution in case of the worst, to call at a friend's house, and sendme word of what had occurred. Having instructed her friend, she went outimmediately upon a visit to a person in the exactly opposite direction, and desired her friend to proceed upon the errand to me, five minutesafter she left the house. By this prudence she completely extricated mefrom the present danger. 

Meantime the intelligence that was brought me by no means ascertainedthe greatness of the peril. For any thing I could discover in it thecircumstance might be perfectly innocent, and the fear solely proceedfrom the over-caution and kindness of this benevolent and excellentwoman. Yet, such was the misery of my situation, I had no choice. Forthis menace or no menace, I was obliged to desert my habitation at aminute's warning, taking with me nothing but what I could carry in myhand; to see my generous benefactress no more; to quit my littlearrangements and provision; and to seek once again, in some forlornretreat, new projects, and, if of that I could have any rational hope, anew friend. I descended into the street with a heavy, not an irresoluteheart. It was broad day. I said, persons are at this moment supposed tobe roaming the street in search of me: I must not trust to the chance oftheir pursuing one direction, and I another. I traversed half a dozenstreets, and then dropped into an obscure house of entertainment forpersons of small expense. In this house I took some refreshment, passedseveral hours of active but melancholy thinking, and at last procured abed. As soon however as it was dark I went out (for this wasindispensable) to purchase the materials of a new disguise. Havingadjusted it as well as I could during the night, I left this asylum, with the same precautions that I had employed in former instances. 

CHAPTER X. 

I procured a new lodging. By some bias of the mind, it may be, gratifying itself with images of peril, I inclined to believe that Mrs. Marney's alarm had not been without foundation. I was however unable toconjecture through what means danger had approached me; and hadtherefore only the unsatisfactory remedy of redoubling my watch upon allmy actions. Still I had the joint considerations pressing upon me ofsecurity and subsistence. I had some small remains of the produce of myformer industry; but this was but small, for my employer was in arrearwith me, and I did not choose in any method to apply to him for payment. The anxieties of my mind, in spite of all my struggles, preyed upon myhealth. I did not consider myself as in safety for an instant. Myappearance was wasted to a shadow; and I started at every sound that wasunexpected. Sometimes I was half tempted to resign myself into the handsof the law, and brave its worst; but resentment and indignation at thosetimes speedily flowed back upon my mind, and re-animated myperseverance. 

I knew no better resource with respect to subsistence than that I hademployed in the former instance, of seeking some third person to standbetween me and the disposal of my industry. I might find an individualready to undertake this office in my behalf; but where should I find thebenevolent soul of Mrs. Marney? The person I fixed upon was a Mr. Spurrel, a man who took in work from the watchmakers, and had anapartment upon our second floor. I examined him two or three times withirresolute glances, as we passed upon the stairs, before I would ventureto accost him. He observed this, and at length kindly invited me intohis apartment. 

Being seated, he condoled with me upon my seeming bad health, and thesolitary mode of my living, and wished to know whether he could be ofany service to me. "From the first moment he saw me, he had conceived anaffection for me. " In my present disguise I appeared twisted anddeformed, and in other respects by no means an object of attraction. Butit seemed Mr. Spurrel had lost an only son about six months before, andI was "the very picture of him. " If I had put off my counterfeitedugliness, I should probably have lost all hold upon his affections. "Hewas now an old man, " as he observed, "just dropping into the grave, andhis son had been his only consolation. The poor lad was always ailing, but he had been a nurse to him; and the more tending he required whilehe was alive, the more he missed him now he was dead. Now he had not afriend, nor any body that cared for him, in the whole world. If Ipleased, I should be instead of that son to him, and he would treat mein all respects with the same attention and kindness. "

I expressed my sense of these benevolent offers, but told him that Ishould be sorry to be in any way burthensome to him. "My ideas atpresent led me to a private and solitary life, and my chief difficultywas to reconcile this with some mode of earning necessary subsistence. If he would condescend to lend me his assistance in smoothing thisdifficulty, it would be the greatest benefit he could confer on me. " Iadded, that "my mind had always had a mechanical and industrious turn, and that I did not doubt of soon mastering any craft to which Iseriously applied myself. I had not been brought up to any trade; but, if he would favour me with his instructions, I would work with him aslong as he pleased for a bare subsistence. I knew that I was asking ofhim an extraordinary kindness; but I was urged on the one hand by themost extreme necessity, and encouraged on the other by thepersuasiveness of his friendly professions. "

The old man dropped some tears over my apparent distress, and readilyconsented to every thing I proposed. Our agreement was soon made, and Ientered upon my functions accordingly. My new friend was a man of asingular turn of mind. Love of money, and a charitable officiousness ofdemeanour, were his leading characteristics. He lived in the mostpenurious manner, and denied himself every indulgence. I entitled myselfalmost immediately, as he frankly acknowledged, to some remuneration formy labours, and accordingly he insisted upon my being paid. He did nothowever, as some persons would have done under the circumstance, pay methe whole amount of my earnings, but professed to subtract from themtwenty per cent, as an equitable consideration for instruction, andcommission-money in procuring me a channel for my industry. Yet hefrequently shed tears over me, was uneasy in every moment of ourindispensable separation, and exhibited perpetual tokens of attachmentand fondness. I found him a man of excellent mechanical contrivance, and received considerable pleasure from his communications. My ownsources of information were various; and he frequently expressed hiswonder and delight in the contemplation of my powers, as well ofamusement as exertion. 

Thus I appeared to have attained a situation not less eligible than inmy connection with Mrs. Marney. I was however still more unhappy. Myfits of despondence were deeper, and of more frequent recurrence. Myhealth every day grew worse; and Mr. Spurrel was not withoutapprehensions that he should lose me, as he before lost his only son. 

I had not been long however in this new situation, before an incidentoccurred which filled me with greater alarm and apprehension than ever. I was walking out one evening, after a long visitation of languor, foran hour's exercise and air, when my ears were struck with two or threecasual sounds from the mouth of a hawker who was bawling his wares. Istood still to inform myself more exactly, when, to my utterastonishment and confusion, I heard him deliver himself nearly in thesewords: "_Here you have the_ MOST WONDERFUL AND SURPRISING HISTORY ANDMIRACULOUS ADVENTURES OF CALEB WILLIAMS: _you are informed how he firstrobbed, and then brought false accusations against his master; as alsoof his attempting divers times to break out of prison, till at last heeffected his escape in the most wonderful and uncredible manner; as alsoof his travelling the kingdom in various disguises, and the robberies hecommitted with a most desperate and daring gang of thieves; and of hiscoming up to London, where it is supposed he now lies concealed; with atrue and faithful copy of the hue and cry printed and published by oneof his Majesty's most principal secretaries of state, offering a rewardof one hundred guineas for apprehending him. All for the price of onehalfpenny_. "

Petrified as I was at these amazing and dreadful sounds, I had thetemerity to go up to the man and purchase one of his papers. I wasdesperately resolved to know the exact state of the fact, and what I hadto depend upon. I carried it with me a little way, till, no longer ableto endure the tumult of my impatience, I contrived to make out the chiefpart of its contents, by the help of a lamp, at the upper end of anarrow passage. I found it contain a greater number of circumstancesthan could have been expected in this species of publication, I wasequalled to the most notorious housebreaker in the art of penetratingthrough walls and doors, and to the most accomplished swindler inplausibleness, duplicity, and disguise. The hand-bill which Larkins hadfirst brought to us upon the forest was printed at length. All mydisguises, previously to the last alarm that had been given me by theprovidence of Mrs. Marney, were faithfully enumerated; and the publicwere warned to be upon their watch against a person of an uncouth andextraordinary appearance, and who lived in a recluse and solitarymanner. I also learned from this paper that my former lodgings had beensearched on the very evening of my escape, and that Mrs. Marney had beensent to Newgate, upon a charge of misprision of felony. --This lastcircumstance affected me deeply. In the midst of my own sufferings mysympathies flowed undiminished. It was a most cruel and intolerableidea, if I were not only myself to be an object of unrelentingpersecution, but my very touch were to be infectious, and every one thatsuccoured me was to be involved in the common ruin. My instant feelingwas that of a willingness to undergo the utmost malice of my enemies, could I by that means have saved this excellent woman from alarm andperil. --I afterwards learned that Mrs. Marney was delivered fromconfinement, by the interposition of her noble relation. 

My sympathy for Mrs. Marney however was at this moment a transient one. A more imperious and irresistible consideration demanded to be heard. 

With what sensations did I ruminate upon this paper? Every word of itcarried despair to my heart. The actual apprehension that I dreadedwould perhaps have been less horrible. It would have put an end to thatlingering terror to which I was a prey. Disguise was no longer of use. Anumerous class of individuals, through every department, almost everyhouse of the metropolis, would be induced to look with a suspicious eyeupon every stranger, especially every solitary stranger, that fell undertheir observation. The prize of one hundred guineas was held out toexcite their avarice and sharpen their penetration. It was no longerBow-street, it was a million of men in arms against me. Neither had I therefuge, which few men have been so miserable as to want, of one singleindividual with whom to repose my alarms, and who might shelter me fromthe gaze of indiscriminate curiosity. 

What could exceed the horrors of this situation? My heart knockedagainst my ribs, my bosom heaved, I gasped and panted for breath. "Thereis no end then, " said I, "to my persecutors! My unwearied andlong-continued labours lead to no termination! Termination! No; thelapse of time, that cures all other things, makes my case moredesperate! Why then, " exclaimed I, a new train of thought suddenlyrushing into my mind, "why should I sustain the contest any longer? Ican at least elude my persecutors in death. I can bury myself and thetraces of my existence together in friendly oblivion; and thus bequeatheternal doubt, and ever new alarm, to those who have no peace but inpursuing me!"

In the midst of the horrors with which I was now impressed, this ideagave me pleasure; and I hastened to the Thames to put it in instantexecution. Such was the paroxysm of my mind that my powers of visionbecame partially suspended. I was no longer conscious to the feeblenessof disease, but rushed along with fervent impetuosity. I passed fromstreet to street without observing what direction I pursued. Afterwandering I know not how long, I arrived at London Bridge. I hastened tothe stairs, and saw the river covered with vessels. 

"No human being must see me, " said I, "at the instant that I vanish forever. " This thought required some consideration. A portion of time hadelapsed since my first desperate purpose. My understanding began toreturn. The sight of the vessels suggested to me the idea of once moreattempting to leave my native country. 

I enquired, and speedily found that the cheapest passage I could procurewas in a vessel moored near the Tower, and which was to sail in a fewdays for Middleburgh in Holland. I would have gone instantly on board, and have endeavoured to prevail with the captain to let me remain theretill he sailed; but unfortunately I had not money enough in my pocket todefray my passage. 

It was worse than this. I had not money enough in the world. I howeverpaid the captain half his demand, and promised to return with the rest. I knew not in what manner it was to be procured, but I believed that Ishould not fail in it. I had some idea of applying to Mr. Spurrel. Surely he would not refuse me? He appeared to love me with parentalaffection, and I thought I might trust myself for a moment in his hands. 

I approached my place of residence with a heavy and foreboding heart. Mr. Spurrel was not at home; and I was obliged to wait for his return. Worn out with fatigue, disappointment, and the ill state of my health, Isunk upon a chair. Speedily however I recollected myself. I had work ofMr. Spurrel's in my trunk, which had been delivered out to me that verymorning, to five times the amount I wanted. I canvassed for a momentwhether I should make use of this property as if it were my own; but Irejected the idea with disdain. I had never in the smallest degreemerited the reproaches that were east upon me; and I determined I neverwould merit them. I sat gasping, anxious, full of the blackestforebodings. My terrors appeared, even to my own mind, greater and moreimportunate than the circumstances authorised. 

It was extraordinary that Mr. Spurrel should be abroad at this hour; Ihad never known it happen before. His bed-time was between nine and ten. Ten o'clock came, eleven o'clock, but not Mr. Spurrel. At midnight Iheard his knock at the door. Every soul in the house was in bed. Mr. Spurrel, on account of his regular hours, was unprovided with a key toopen for himself. A gleam, a sickly gleam, of the social spirit cameover my heart. I flew nimbly down stairs, and opened the door. 

I could perceive, by the little taper in my hand, somethingextraordinary in his countenance. I had not time to speak, before I sawtwo other men follow him. At the first glance I was sufficientlyassured what sort of persons they were. At the second, I perceived thatone of them was no other than Gines himself. I had understood formerlythat he had been of this profession, and I was not surprised to find himin it again. Though I had for three hours endeavoured, as it were, toprepare myself for the unavoidable necessity of falling once again intothe hands of the officers of law, the sensation I felt at their entrancewas indescribably agonising. I was besides not a little astonished atthe time and manner of their entrance; and I felt anxious to knowwhether Mr. Spurrel could be base enough to have been their introducer. 

I was not long held in perplexity. He no sooner saw his followers withinthe door, than he exclaimed, with convulsive eagerness, "There, there, that is your man! thank God! thank God!" Gines looked eagerly in myface, with a countenance expressive alternately of hope and doubt, andanswered, "By God, and I do not know whether it be or no! I am afraid weare in the wrong box!" Then recollecting himself, "We will go into thehouse, and examine further however. " We all went up stairs into Mr. Spurrel's room; I set down the candle upon the table. I had hithertobeen silent; but I determined not to desert myself, and was a littleencouraged to exertion by the scepticism of Gines. With a calm anddeliberate manner therefore, in my feigned voice, one of thecharacteristics of which was lisping, I asked, "Pray, gentlemen, whatmay be your pleasure with me?"--"Why, " said Gines, "our errand is withone Caleb Williams, and a precious rascal he is! I ought to know thechap well enough; but they say he has as many faces as there are days inthe year. So you please to pull off your face; or, if you cannot dothat, at least you can pull off your clothes, and let us see what yourhump is made of. "

I remonstrated, but in vain. I stood detected in part of my artifice;and Gines, though still uncertain, was every moment more and moreconfirmed in his suspicions. Mr. Spurrel perfectly gloated, with eyesthat seemed ready to devour every thing that passed. As my imposturegradually appeared more palpable, he repeated his exclamation, "ThankGod! thank God!" At last, tired with this scene of mummery, anddisgusted beyond measure with the base and hypocritical figure I seemedto exhibit, I exclaimed, "Well, I am Caleb Williams; conduct me whereveryou please! And now, Mr. Spurrel!"--He gave a violent start. Theinstant I declared myself his transport had been at the highest, andwas, to any power he was able to exert, absolutely uncontrollable. Buttile unexpectedness of my address, and the tone in which I spoke, electrified him. --"Is it possible, " continued I, "that you shouldhave been the wretch to betray me? What have I done to deserve thistreatment? Is this the kindness you professed? the affection that wasperpetually in your mouth? to be the death of me!"

"My poor boy! my dear creature!" cried Spurrel, whimpering, and in atone of the humblest expostulation, "indeed I could not help it! I wouldhave helped it, if I could! I hope they will not hurt my darling! I amsure I shall die if they do!"

"Miserable driveller!" interrupted I, with a stern voice, "do you betrayme into the remorseless fangs of the law, and then talk of my not beinghurt? I know my sentence, and am prepared to meet it! You have fixed thehalter upon my neck, and at the same price would have done so to youronly son! Go, count your accursed guineas I My life would have beensafer in the hands of one I had never seen than in yours, whose mouthand whose eyes for ever ran over with crocodile affection!"

I have always believed that my sickness, and, as he apprehended, approaching death, contributed its part to the treachery of Mr. Spurrel. He predicted to his own mind the time when I should no longer be able towork. He recollected with agony the expense that attended his son'sillness and death. He determined to afford me no assistance of a similarkind. He feared however the reproach of deserting me. He feared thetenderness of his nature. He felt, that I was growing upon hisaffections, and that in a short time he could not have deserted me. Hewas driven by a sort of implicit impulse, for the sake of avoiding oneungenerous action, to take refuge in another, the basest and mostdiabolical. This motive, conjoining with the prospect of the profferedreward, was an incitement too powerful for him to resist. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Having given vent to my resentment, I left Mr. Spurrel motionless, andunable to utter a word. Gines and his companion attended me. It isunnecessary to repeat all the insolence of this man. He alternatelytriumphed in the completion of his revenge, and regretted the loss ofthe reward to the shrivelled old curmudgeon we had just quitted, whomhowever he swore he would cheat of it by one means or another. Heclaimed to himself the ingenuity of having devised the halfpenny legend, the thought of which was all his own, and was an expedient that wasimpossible to fail. There was neither law nor justice, he said, to behad, if Hunks who had done nothing were permitted to pocket the cash, and his merit were left undistinguished and pennyless. 

I paid but little attention to his story. It struck upon my sense, and Iwas able to recollect it at my nearest leisure, though I thought not ofit at the time. For the present I was busily employed, reflecting on mynew situation, and the conduct to be observed in it. The thought ofsuicide had twice, in moments of uncommon despair, suggested itself tomy mind; but it was far from my habitual meditations. At present, and inall cases where death was immediately threatened me from the injusticeof others, I felt myself disposed to contend to the last. 

My prospects were indeed sufficiently gloomy and discouraging. How muchlabour had I exerted, first to extricate myself from prison, and next toevade the diligence of my pursuers; and the result of all, to be broughtback to the point from which I began! I had gained fame indeed, themiserable fame to have my story bawled forth by hawkers andballad-mongers, to have my praises as an active and enterprising villaincelebrated among footmen and chambermaids; but I was neither anErostratus nor an Alexander, to die contented with that species ofeulogium. With respect to all that was solid, what chance could I findin new exertions of a similar nature? Never was a human creature pursuedby enemies more inventive or envenomed. I could have small hope thatthey would ever cease their persecution, or that my future attemptswould be crowned with a more desirable issue. 

They were considerations like these that dictated my resolution. My mindhad been gradually weaning from Mr. Falkland, till its feeling rose tosomething like abhorrence. I had long cherished a reverence for him, which not even animosity and subornation on his part could utterlydestroy. But I now ascribed a character so inhumanly sanguinary to hismind; I saw something so fiend-like in the thus hunting me round theworld, and determining to be satisfied with nothing less than my blood, while at the same time he knew my innocence, my indisposition tomischief, nay, I might add, my virtues; that henceforth I trampledreverence and the recollection of former esteem under my feet. I lostall regard to his intellectual greatness, and all pity for the agoniesof his soul. I also would abjure forbearance. I would show myself bitterand inflexible as he had done. Was it wise in him to drive me intoextremity and madness? Had he no fears for his own secret and atrociousoffences?

I had been obliged to spend the remainder of the night upon which I hadbeen apprehended, in prison. During the interval I had thrown off everyvestige of disguise, and appeared the next morning in my own person. Iwas of course easily identified; and, this being the whole with whichthe magistrates before whom I now stood thought themselves concerned, they were proceeding to make out an order for my being conducted back tomy own county. I suspended the despatch of this measure by observingthat I had something to disclose. This is an overture to which menappointed for the administration of criminal justice never fail toattend. 

I went before the magistrates, to whose office Gines and his comradeconducted me, fully determined to publish those astonishing secrets ofwhich I had hitherto been the faithful depository; and, once for all, toturn the tables upon my accuser. It was time that the real criminalshould be the sufferer, and not that innocence should for ever labourunder the oppression of guilt. 

I said that "I had always protested my innocence, and must now repeatthe protest. "

"In that case, " retorted the senior magistrate abruptly, "what can youhave to disclose? If you are innocent, that is no business of ours! Weact officially. "

"I always declared, " continued I, "that I was the perpetrator of noguilt, but that the guilt wholly belonged to my accuser. He privatelyconveyed these effects among my property, and then charged me with therobbery. I now declare more than that, that this man is a murderer, thatI detected his criminality, and that, for that reason, he is determinedto deprive me of life. I presume, gentlemen, that you do consider it asyour business to take this declaration. I am persuaded you will be by nomeans disposed, actively or passively, to contribute to the atrociousinjustice under which I suffer, to the imprisonment and condemnation ofan innocent man, in order that a murderer may go free. I suppressed thisstory as long as I could. I was extremely averse to be the author of theunhappiness or the death of a human being. But all patience andsubmission have their limits. "

"Give me leave, sir, " rejoined the magistrate, with an air of affectedmoderation, "to ask you two questions. Were you any way aiding, abetting, or contributing to this murder?"

"No. "

"And pray, sir, who is this Mr. Falkland? and what may have been thenature of your connection with him?"

"Mr. Falkland is a gentleman of six thousand per annum. I lived with himas his secretary. "

"In other words, you were his servant?"

"As you please. "

"Very well, sir; that is quite enough for me. First, I have to tell you, as a magistrate, that I can have nothing to do with your declaration. Ifyou had been concerned in the murder you talk of, that would alter thecase. But it is out of all reasonable rule for a magistrate to take aninformation from a felon, except against his accomplices. Next, I thinkit right to observe to you, in my own proper person, that you appear tome to be the most impudent rascal I ever saw. Why, are you such an assas to suppose, that the sort of story you have been telling, can be ofany service to you, either here or at the assizes, or any where else? Afine time of it indeed it would be, if, when gentlemen of six thousand ayear take up their servants for robbing them, those servants could trumpup such accusations as these, and could get any magistrate or court ofjustice to listen to them! Whether or no the felony with which you standcharged would have brought you to the gallows, I will not pretend tosay: but I am sure this story will. There would be a speedy end to allorder and good government, if fellows that trample upon ranks anddistinctions in this atrocious sort were upon any consideration sufferedto get off. "

"And do you refuse, sir, to attend to the particulars of the charge Iallege?"

"Yes, sir, I do. --But, if I did not, pray what witnesses have you of themurder?"

This question staggered me. 

"None. But I believe I can make out a circumstantial proof, of a natureto force attention from the most indifferent hearer. "

"So I thought. --Officers, take him from the bar!"

Such was the success of this ultimate resort on my part, upon which Ihad built with such undoubting confidence. Till now, I had conceivedthat the unfavourable situation in which I was placed was prolonged bymy own forbearance; and I had determined to endure all that human naturecould support, rather than have recourse to this extreme recrimination. That idea secretly consoled me under all my calamities: it was avoluntary sacrifice, and was cheerfully made. I thought myself allied tothe army of martyrs and confessors; I applauded my fortitude andself-denial; and I pleased myself with the idea, that I had the power, though I hoped never to employ it, by an unrelenting display of myresources, to put an end at once to my sufferings and persecutions. 

And this at last was the justice of mankind! A man, under certaincircumstances, shall not be heard in the detection of a crime, becausehe has not been a participator of it! The story of a flagitious murdershall be listened to with indifference, while an innocent man is hunted, like a wild beast, to the furthest corners of the earth! Six thousand ayear shall protect a man from accusation; and the validity of animpeachment shall be superseded, because the author of it is a servant!

I was conducted back to the very prison from which a few months before Ihad made my escape. With a bursting heart I entered those walls, compelled to feel that all my more than Herculean labours served for myown torture, and for no other end. Since my escape from prison I hadacquired some knowledge of the world; I had learned by bitterexperience, by how many links society had a hold upon me, and howclosely the snares of despotism beset me. I no longer beheld the world, as my youthful fancy had once induced me to do, as a scene in which tohide or to appear, and to exhibit the freaks of a wanton vivacity. I sawmy whole species as ready, in one mode or other, to be made theinstruments of the tyrant. Hope died away in the bottom of my heart. Shut up for the first night in my dungeon, I was seized at intervalswith temporary frenzy. From time to time, I rent the universal silencewith the roarings of unsupportable despair. But this was a transientdistraction. I soon returned to the sober recollection of myself and mymiseries. 

My prospects were more gloomy, and my situation apparently moreirremediable, than ever. I was exposed again, if that were of anyaccount, to the insolence and tyranny that are uniformly exercisedwithin those walls. Why should I repeat the loathsome tale of all thatwas endured by me, and is endured by every man who is unhappy enough tofall under the government of these consecrated ministers of nationaljurisprudence? The sufferings I had already experienced, my anxieties, my flight, the perpetual expectation of being discovered, worse than thediscovery itself, would perhaps have been enough to satisfy the mostinsensible individual, in the court of his own conscience, if I had evenbeen the felon I was pretended to be. But the law has neither eyes, norears, nor bowels of humanity; and it turns into marble the hearts of allthose that are nursed in its principles. 

I however once more recovered my spirit of determination. I resolvedthat, while I had life, I would never be deserted by this spirit. Oppressed, annihilated I might be; but, if I died, I would dieresisting. What use, what advantage, what pleasurable sentiment, couldarise from a tame surrender? There is no man that is ignorant, that tohumble yourself at the feet of the law is a bootless task; in her courtsthere is no room for amendment and reformation. 

My fortitude may to some persons appear above the standard of humannature. But if I draw back the veil from my heart they will readilyconfess their mistake. My heart bled at every pore. My resolution wasnot the calm sentiment of philosophy and reason. It was a gloomy anddesperate purpose: the creature, not of hope, but of a mind austerelyheld to its design, that felt, as it were, satisfied with the nakedeffort, and prepared to give success or miscarriage to the winds. It wasto this miserable condition, which might awaken sympathy in the mosthardened bosom, that Mr. Falkland had reduced me. 

In the mean time, strange as it may seem, here, in prison, subject toinnumerable hardships, and in the assured expectation of a sentence ofdeath, I recovered my health. I ascribe this to the state of my mind, which was now changed, from perpetual anxiety, terror, and alarm, thetoo frequent inmates of a prison, but which I upon this occasion did notseem to bring along with me, to a desperate firmness. 

I anticipated the event of my trial. I determined once more to escapefrom my prison; nor did I doubt of my ability to effect at least thisfirst step towards my future preservation. The assizes however werenear, and there were certain considerations, unnecessary to be detailed, that persuaded me there might be benefit in waiting till my trial shouldactually be terminated, before I made my attempt. 

It stood upon the list as one of the latest to be brought forward. I wastherefore extremely surprised to find it called out of its order, earlyon the morning of the second day. But, if this were unexpected, howmuch greater was my astonishment, when my prosecutor was called, tofind neither Mr. Falkland, nor Mr. Forester, nor a single individual ofany description, appear against me! The recognizances into which myprosecutors had entered were declared to be forfeited; and I wasdismissed without further impediment from the bar. 

The effect which this incredible reverse produced upon my mind it isimpossible to express. I, who had come to that bar with the sentence ofdeath already in idea ringing in my ears, to be told that I was free totransport myself whithersoever I pleased! Was it for this that I hadbroken through so many locks and bolts, and the adamantine walls of myprison; that I had passed so many anxious days, and sleepless, spectre-haunted nights; that I had racked my invention for expedients ofevasion and concealment; that my mind had been roused to an energy ofwhich I could scarcely have believed it capable; that my existence hadbeen enthralled to an ever-living torment, such as I could scarcely havesupposed it in man to endure? Great God! what is man? Is he thus blindto the future, thus totally unsuspecting of what is to occur in the nextmoment of his existence? I have somewhere read, that heaven in mercyhides from us the future incidents of our life. My own experience doesnot well accord with this assertion. In this instance at least I shouldhave been saved from insupportable labour and undescribable anguish, could I have foreseen the catastrophe of this most interestingtransaction. 

CHAPTER XII. 

It was not long before I took my everlasting leave of this detested andmiserable scene. My heart was for the present too full of astonishmentand exultation in my unexpected deliverance, to admit of anxiety aboutthe future. I withdrew from the town; I rambled with a slow andthoughtful pace, now bursting with exclamation, and now buried inprofound and undefinable reverie. Accident led me towards the very heathwhich had first sheltered me, when, upon a former occasion, I broke outof my prison. I wandered among its cavities and its valleys. It was aforlorn and desolate solitude. I continued here I know not how long. Night at length overtook me unperceived, and I prepared to return forthe present to the town I had quitted. 

It was now perfectly dark, when two men, whom I had not previouslyobserved, sprung upon me from behind. They seized me by the arms, andthrew me upon the ground. I had no time for resistance or recollection. I could however perceive that one of them was the diabolical Gines. Theyblindfolded, gagged me, and hurried me I knew not whither. As we passedalong in silence, I endeavoured to conjecture what could be the meaningof this extraordinary violence. I was strongly impressed with the idea, that, after the event of this morning, the most severe and painful partof my history was past; and, strange as it may seem, I could notpersuade myself to regard with alarm this unexpected attack. It mighthowever be some new project, suggested by the brutal temper andunrelenting animosity of Gines. 

I presently found that we were returned into the town I had justquitted. They led me into a house, and, as soon as they had takenpossession of a room freed me from the restraints they had beforeimposed Here Gines informed me with a malicious grin that no harm wasintended me, and therefore I should show most sense in keeping myselfquiet. I perceived that we were in an inn; I overheard company in a roomat no great distance from us, and therefore was now as thoroughly awareas he could be, that there was at present little reason to stand in fearof any species of violence, and that it would be time enough to resist, when they attempted to conduct me from the inn in the same manner thatthey had brought me into it. I was not without some curiosity to see theconclusion that was to follow upon so extraordinary a commencement. 

The preliminaries I have described were scarcely completed, before Mr. Falkland entered the room. I remember Collins, when he firstcommunicated to me the particulars of our patron's history, observedthat he was totally unlike the man he had once been. I had no means ofascertaining the truth of that observation. But it was strikinglyapplicable to the spectacle which now presented itself to my eyes, though, when I last beheld this unhappy man, he had been a victim to thesame passions, a prey to the same undying remorse, as now. Misery was atthat time inscribed in legible characters upon his countenance. But nowhe appeared like nothing that had ever been visible in human shape. Hisvisage was haggard, emaciated, and fleshless. His complexion was a dunand tarnished red, the colour uniform through every region of the face, and suggested the idea of its being burnt and parched by the eternalfire that burned within him. His eyes were red, quick, wandering, fullof suspicion and rage. His hair was neglected, ragged, and floating. His whole figure was thin, to a degree that suggested the idea rather ofa skeleton than a person actually alive. Life seemed hardly to be thecapable inhabitant of so woe-begone and ghost-like a figure. The taperof wholesome life was expired; but passion, and fierceness, and frenzy, were able for the present to supply its place. 

I was to the utmost degree astonished and shocked at the sight ofhim. --He sternly commanded my conductors to leave the room. 

"Well, sir, I have this day successfully exerted myself to save yourlife from the gallows. A fortnight ago you did what you were able tobring my life to that ignominious close. 

"Were you so stupid and undistinguishing as not to know that thepreservation of your life was the uniform object of my exertions? Didnot I maintain you in prison? Did not I endeavour to prevent your beingsent thither? Could you mistake the bigoted and obstinate conduct ofForester, in offering a hundred guineas for your apprehension, for mine?

"I had my eye upon you in all your wanderings. You have taken nomaterial step through their whole course with which I have not beenacquainted. I meditated to do you good. I have spilt no blood but thatof Tyrrel: that was in the moment of passion; and it has been thesubject of my uninterrupted and hourly remorse. I have connived at noman's fate but that of the Hawkinses: they could no otherwise have beensaved, than by my acknowledging myself a murderer. The rest of my lifehas been spent in acts of benevolence. 

"I meditated to do you good. For that reason I was willing to prove you. You pretended to act towards me with consideration and forbearance. Ifyou had persisted in that to the end, I would yet have found a way toreward you. I left you to your own discretion. You might show theimpotent malignity of your own heart; but, in the circumstances in whichyou were then placed, I knew you could not hurt me. Your forbearance hasproved, as I all along suspected, empty and treacherous. You haveattempted to blast my reputation. You have sought to disclose the selectand eternal secret of my soul. Because you have done that, I will neverforgive you. I will remember it to my latest breath. The memory shallsurvive me, when my existence is no more. Do you think you are out ofthe reach of my power, because a court of justice has acquitted you?"

While Mr. Falkland was speaking a sudden distemper came over hiscountenance, his whole frame was shaken by an instantaneous convulsion, and he staggered to a chair. In about three minutes he recovered. 

"Yes, " said he, "I am still alive. I shall live for days, and months, and years; the power that made me, of whatever kind it be, can onlydetermine how long. I live the guardian of my reputation. That, and toendure a misery such as man never endured, are the only ends to which Ilive. But, when I am no more, my fame shall still survive. My charactershall be revered as spotless and unimpeachable by all posterity, as longas the name of Falkland shall be repeated in the most distant regions ofthe many-peopled globe. "

Having said this, he returned to the discourse which more immediatelyrelated to my future condition and happiness. 

"There is one condition, " said he, "upon which you may obtain somemitigation of your future calamity. It is for that purpose that I havesent for you. Listen to my proposal with deliberation and sobriety. Remember, that the insanity is not less to trifle with the resolveddetermination of my soul, than it would be to pull a mountain upon yourhead that hung trembling upon the edge of the mighty Apennine!

"I insist then upon your signing a paper, declaring, in the most solemnmanner, that I am innocent of murder, and that the charge you alleged atthe office in Bow-street is false, malicious, and groundless. Perhapsyou may scruple out of a regard to truth. Is truth then entitled toadoration for its own sake, and not for the sake of the happiness it iscalculated to produce? Will a reasonable man sacrifice to barren truth, when benevolence, humanity, and every consideration that is dear to thehuman heart, require that it should be superseded? It is probable that Imay never make use of this paper, but I require it, as the onlypracticable reparation to the honour you have assailed. This is what Ihad to propose. I expect your answer. "

"Sir, " answered I, "I have heard you to an end, and I stand in need ofno deliberation to enable me to answer you in the negative. You took meup a raw and inexperienced boy, capable of being moulded to any form youpleased. But you have communicated to me volumes of experience in a veryshort period. I am no longer irresolute and pliable. What is the poweryou retain over my fate I am unable to discover. You may destroy me; butyou cannot make me tremble. I am not concerned to enquire, whether whatI have suffered flowed from you by design or otherwise; whether you werethe author of my miseries, or only connived at them. This I know, that Ihave suffered too exquisitely on your account, for me to feel the leastremaining claim on your part to my making any voluntary sacrifice. 

"You say that benevolence and humanity require this sacrifice of me. No;it would only be a sacrifice to your mad and misguided love of fame, --tothat passion which has been the source of all your miseries, of the mosttragical calamities to others, and of every misfortune that has happenedto me. I have no forbearance to exercise towards that passion. If you benot yet cured of this tremendous and sanguinary folly, at least I willdo nothing to cherish it. I know not whether from my youth I wasdestined for a hero; but I may thank you for having taught me a lessonof insurmountable fortitude. 

"What is it that you require of me? that I should sign away my ownreputation for the better maintaining of yours. Where is the equality ofthat? What is it that casts me at such an immense distance below you, asto make every thing that relates to me wholly unworthy of consideration?You have been educated in the prejudice of birth. I abhor thatprejudice. You have made me desperate, and I utter what that desperationsuggests. 

"You will tell me perhaps that I have no reputation to lose; that, whileyou are esteemed faultless and unblemished, I am universally reputed athief, a suborner, and a calumniator. Be it so. I will never do anything to countenance those imputations. The more I am destitute of theesteem of mankind, the more careful I will be to preserve my own. I willnever from fear, or any other mistaken motive, do any thing of which Iought to be ashamed. 

"You are determined to be for ever my enemy. I have in no degreedeserved this eternal abhorrence. I have always esteemed and pitied you. For a considerable time I rather chose to expose myself to every kindof misfortune, than disclose the secret that was so dear to you. I wasnot deterred by your menaces--(what could you make me suffer more thanI actually suffered?)--but by the humanity of my own heart; in which, and not in means of violence, you ought to have reposed your confidence. What is the mysterious vengeance that you can yet execute against me?You menaced me before; you can menace no worse now. You are wearing outthe springs of terror. Do with me as you please; you teach me to hearyou with an unshrinking and desperate firmness. Recollect yourself! Idid not proceed to the step with which you reproach me, till I wasapparently urged to the very last extremity. I had suffered as much ashuman nature can suffer; I had lived in the midst of eternal alarm andunintermitted watchfulness; I had twice been driven to purposes ofsuicide. I am now sorry however, that the step of which you complain wasever adopted. But, urged to exasperation by an unintermitted rigour, Ihad no time to cool or to deliberate. Even at present I cherish novengeance against you. All that is reasonable, all that can reallycontribute to your security, I will readily concede; but I will not bedriven to an act repugnant to all reason, integrity, and justice. "

Mr. Falkland listened to me with astonishment and impatience. He hadentertained no previous conception of the firmness I displayed. Severaltimes he was convulsed with the fury that laboured in his breast. Onceand again he betrayed an intention to interrupt; but he was restrainedby the collectedness of my manner, and perhaps by a desire to beacquainted with the entire state of my mind. Finding that I hadconcluded, he paused for a moment; his passion seemed gradually toenlarge, till it was no longer capable of control. 

"It is well!" said he, gnashing his teeth, and stamping upon the ground. "You refuse the composition I offer! I have no power to persuade you tocompliance! You defy me! At least I have a power respecting you, andthat power I will exercise; a power that shall grind you into atoms. Icondescend to no more expostulation. I know what I am, and what I canbe. I know what you are, and what fate is reserved for you!"

Saying this he quitted the room. 

Such were the particulars of this memorable scene. The impression it hasleft upon my understanding is indelible. The figure and appearance ofMr. Falkland, his death-like weakness and decay, his more than mortalenergy and rage, the words that he spoke, the motives that animated him, produced one compounded effect upon my mind that nothing of the samenature could ever parallel. The idea of his misery thrilled through myframe. How weak in comparison of it is the imaginary hell, which thegreat enemy of mankind is represented as carrying every where about withhim!

From this consideration, my mind presently turned to the menaces he hadvented against myself. They were all mysterious and undefined. He hadtalked of power, but had given no hint from which I could collect inwhat he imagined it to consist. He had talked of misery, but had notdropped a syllable respecting the nature of the misery to be inflicted. 

I sat still for some time, ruminating on these thoughts. Neither Mr. Falkland nor any other person appeared to disturb my meditations. Irose, went out of the room, and from the inn into the street. No oneoffered to molest me. It was strange! What was the nature of thispower, from which I was to apprehend so much, yet which seemed to leaveme at perfect liberty? I began to imagine that all I had heard from thisdreadful adversary was mere madness and extravagance, and that he was atlength deprived of the use of reason, which had long served him only asa medium of torment. Yet was it likely in that case that he should beable to employ Gines and his associate, who had just been hisinstruments of violence upon my person?

I proceeded along the streets with considerable caution. I looked beforeme and behind me, as well as the darkness would allow me to do, that Imight not again be hunted in sight by some men of stratagem and violencewithout my perceiving it. I went not, as before, beyond the limits ofthe town, but considered the streets, the houses, and the inhabitants, as affording some degree of security. I was still walking with my mindthus full of suspicion and forecast, when I discovered Thomas, thatservant of Mr. Falkland whom I have already more than once had occasionto mention. He advanced towards me with an air so blunt and direct, asinstantly to remove from me the idea of any thing insidious in hispurpose; besides that I had always felt the character of Thomas, rusticand uncultivated as it was, to be entitled to a more than common portionof esteem. 

"Thomas, " said I, as he advanced, "I hope you are willing to give mejoy, that I am at length delivered from the dreadful danger which formany months haunted me so unmercifully. "

"No, " rejoined Thomas, roughly; "I be not at all willing. I do not knowwhat to make of myself in this affair. While you were in prison in thatmiserable fashion, I felt all at one almost as if I loved you: and nowthat that is over, and you are turned out loose in the world to do yourworst, my blood rises at the very sight of you. To look at you, you arealmost that very lad Williams for whom I could with pleasure, as itwere, have laid down my life; and yet, behind that smiling face therelie robbery, and lying, and every thing that is ungrateful andmurderous. Your last action was worse than all the rest. How could youfind in your heart to revive that cruel story about Mr. Tyrrel, whichevery body had agreed, out of regard to the squire, never to mentionagain, and of which I know, and you know, he is as innocent as the childunborn? There are causes and reasons, or else I could have wished fromthe bottom of my soul never to have set eyes on you again. "

"And you still persist in your hard thoughts of me?"

"Worse! I think worse of you than ever! Before, I thought you as bad asman could be. I wonder from my soul what you are to do next. But youmake good the old saying, 'Needs must go, that the devil drives. '"

"And so there is never to be an end of my misfortunes! What can Mr. Falkland contrive for me worse than the ill opinion and enmity of allmankind?"

"Mr. Falkland contrive! He is the best friend you have in the world, though you are the basest traitor to him. Poor man! it makes one's heartache to look at him; he is the very image of grief. And it is not clearto me that it is not all owing to you. At least you have given thefinishing lift to the misfortune that was already destroying him. Therehave been the devil and all to pay between him and squire Forester. Thesquire is right raving mad with my master, for having outwitted him inthe matter of the trial, and saved your life. He swears that you shallbe taken up and tried all over again at the next assizes; but my masteris resolute, and I believe will carry it his own way. He says indeedthat the law will not allow squire Forester to have his will in this. Tosee him ordering every thing for your benefit, and taking all yourmaliciousness as mild and innocent as a lamb, and to think of your vileproceedings against him, is a sight one shall not see again, go all theworld over. For God's sake, repent of your reprobate doings, and makewhat little reparation is in your power! Think of your poor soul, beforeyou awake, as to be sure one of these days you will, in fire andbrimstone everlasting!"

Saying this, he held out his hand and took hold of mine. The actionseemed strange; but I at first thought it the unpremeditated result ofhis solemn and well-intended adjuration. I felt however that he putsomething into my hand. The next moment he quitted his hold, andhastened from me with the swiftness of an arrow. What he had thus givenme was a bank-note of twenty pounds. I had no doubt that he had beencharged to deliver it to me from Mr. Falkland. 

What was I to infer? what light did it throw upon the intentions of myinexorable persecutor? his animosity against me was as great as ever;that I had just had confirmed to me from his own mouth. Yet hisanimosity appeared to be still tempered with the remains of humanity. Heprescribed to it a line, wide enough to embrace the gratification of hisviews, and within the boundaries of that line it stopped. But thisdiscovery carried no consolation to my mind. I knew not what portion ofcalamity I was fated to endure, before his jealousy of dishonour, andinordinate thirst of fame would deem themselves satisfied. 

Another question offered itself. Was I to receive the money which hadjust been put into my hands? the money of a man who had inflicted uponme injuries, less than those which he had entailed upon himself, but thegreatest that one man can inflict upon another? who had blasted myyouth, who had destroyed my peace, who had held me up to the abhorrenceof mankind, and rendered me an outcast upon the face of the earth? whohad forced the basest and most atrocious falsehoods, and urged them witha seriousness and perseverance which produced universal belief? who, anhour before, had vowed against me inexorable enmity, and sworn to entailupon me misery without end? Would not this conduct on my part betray abase and abject spirit, that crouched under tyranny, and kissed thehands that were imbrued in my blood?

If these reasons appeared strong, neither was the other side withoutreasons in reply. I wanted the money: not for any purpose of vice orsuperfluity, but for those purposes without which life cannot subsist. Man ought to be able, wherever placed, to find for himself the means ofexistence; but I was to open a new scene of life, to remove to somedistant spot, to be prepared against all the ill-will of mankind, andthe unexplored projects of hostility of a most accomplished foe. Theactual means of existence are the property of all. What should hinder mefrom taking that of which I was really in want, when, in taking it, Irisked no vengeance, and perpetrated no violence? The property inquestion will be beneficial to me, and the voluntary surrender of it isaccompanied with no injury to its late proprietor; what other conditioncan be necessary to render the use of it on my part a duty? He thatlately possessed it has injured me; does that alter its value as amedium of exchange? He will boast, perhaps of the imaginary obligationhe has conferred on me: surely to shrink from a thing in itself rightfrom any such apprehension, can be the result only of pusillanimity andcowardice!

CHAPTER XIII. 

Influenced by these reasonings, I determined to retain what had thusbeen put into my hands. My next care was in regard to the scene I shouldchoose, as the retreat of that life which I had just saved from thegrasp of the executioner. The danger to which I was exposed of forcibleinterruption in my pursuits, was probably, in some respects, less nowthan it had been previously to this crisis. Besides, that I wasconsiderably influenced in this deliberation by the strong loathing Iconceived for the situations in which I had lately been engaged. I knewnot in what mode Mr. Falkland intended to exercise his vengeance againstme; but I was seized with so unconquerable an aversion to disguise, andthe idea of spending my life in personating a fictitious character, thatI could not, for the present at least, reconcile my mind to any thing ofthat nature. The same kind of disgust I had conceived for themetropolis, where I had spent so many hours of artifice, sadness, andterror. I therefore decided in favour of the project which had formerlyproved amusing to my imagination, of withdrawing to some distant, ruralscene, a scene of calmness and obscurity, where for a few years atleast, perhaps during the life of Mr. Falkland, I might be hidden fromthe world, recover the wounds my mind had received in this fatalconnection, methodise and improve the experience which had beenaccumulated, cultivate the faculties I in any degree possessed, andemploy the intervals of these occupations in simple industry, and theintercourse of guileless, uneducated, kind-intentioned minds. Themenaces of my persecutor seemed to forebode the inevitable interruptionof this system. But I deemed it wise to put these menaces out of myconsideration I compared them to death, which must infallibly overtakeus we know not when; but the possibility of whose arrival next year, next week, to-morrow, must be left out of the calculation of him whowould enter upon any important or well-concerted undertaking. 

Such were the ideas that determined my choice. Thus did my youthful minddelineate the system of distant years, even when the threats of instantcalamity still sounded in my ears. I was inured to the apprehension ofmischief, till at last the hoarse roarings of the beginning tempest hadlost their power of annihilating my peace. I however thought itnecessary, while I was most palpably within the sphere of the enemy, toexert every practicable degree of vigilance. I was careful not to incurthe hazards of darkness and solitude. When I left the town it was withthe stage-coach, an obvious source of protection against glaring andenormous violence. Meanwhile I found myself no more exposed tomolestation in my progress, than the man in the world who should havehad the least reason for apprehensions of this nature. As the distanceincreased, I relaxed something in my precaution, though still awake to asense of danger, and constantly pursued with the image of my foe. Ifixed upon an obscure market-town in Wales as the chosen seat of myoperations. This place recommended itself to my observation as I waswandering in quest of an abode. It was clean, cheerful, and of greatsimplicity of appearance. It was at a distance from any public andfrequented road, and had nothing which could deserve the name of trade. The face of nature around it was agreeably diversified, being partlywild and romantic, and partly rich and abundant in production. 

Here I solicited employment in two professions; the first, that of awatchmaker, in which though the instructions I had received were few, they were eked out and assisted by a mind fruitful in mechanicalinvention; the other, that of an instructor in mathematics and itspractical application, geography, astronomy, land-surveying, andnavigation. Neither of these was a very copious source of emolument inthe obscure retreat I had chosen for myself; but, if my receipts wereslender, my disbursements were still fewer. In this little town I becameacquainted with the vicar, the apothecary, the lawyer, and the rest ofthe persons who, time out of mind, had been regarded as the top gentryof the place. Each of these centred in himself a variety of occupations. There was little in the appearance of the vicar that reminded you of hisprofession, except on the recurring Sunday. At other times hecondescended, with his evangelical hand to guide the plough, or to drivethe cows from the field to the farm-yard for the milking. The apothecaryoccasionally officiated as a barber, and the lawyer was the villageschoolmaster. 

By all these persons I was received with kindness and hospitality. Amongpeople thus remote from the bustle of human life there is an open spiritof confidence, by means of which a stranger easily finds access to theirbenevolence and good-will. My manners had never been greatly debauchedfrom the simplicity of rural life by the scenes through which I hadpassed; and the hardships I had endured had given additional mildness tomy character. In the theatre upon which I was now placed I had no rival. My mechanical occupation had hitherto been a non-resident; and theschoolmaster, who did not aspire to the sublime heights of science Iprofessed to communicate, was willing to admit me as a partner in thetask of civilising the unpolished manners of the inhabitants. For theparson, civilisation was no part of his trade; his business was with thethings of a better life, not with the carnal concerns of this materialscene; in truth, his thoughts were principally occupied with his oatmealand his cows. 

These however were not the only companions which this remote retirementafforded me. There was a family of a very different description, ofwhich I gradually became the chosen intimate. The father was a shrewd, sensible, rational man, but who had turned his principal attention tosubjects of agriculture. His wife was a truly admirable andextraordinary woman. She was the daughter of a Neapolitan nobleman, who, after having visited, and made a considerable figure, in every countryin Europe, had at length received the blow of fate in this village. Hehad been banished his country upon suspicion of religious and politicalheresy, and his estates confiscated. With this only child, like Prosperoin the Tempest, he had withdrawn himself to one of the most obscure anduncultivated regions of the world. Very soon however after his arrivalin Wales he had been seized with a malignant fever, which carried himoff in three days. He died possessed of no other property than a fewjewels, and a bill of credit, to no considerable amount, upon an Englishbanker. 

Here then was the infant Laura, left in a foreign country, and withouta single friend. The father of her present husband was led by motives ofpure humanity to seek to mitigate the misfortunes of the dying Italian. Though a plain uninstructed man, with no extraordinary refinement ofintellect, there was something in his countenance that determined thestranger in his present forlorn and melancholy situation, to make himhis executor, and the guardian of his daughter. The Neapolitanunderstood enough of English to explain his wishes to this friendlyattendant of his death-bed. As his circumstances were narrow, theservants of the stranger, two Italians, a male and a female, were sentback to their own country soon after the death of their master. 

Laura was at this time eight years of age. At these tender years she hadbeen susceptible of little direct instruction; and, as she grew up, eventhe memory of her father became, from year to year, more vague andindistinct in her mind. But there was something she derived from herfather, whether along with the life he bestowed, or as the consequenceof his instruction and manners, which no time could efface. Every addedyear of her life contributed to develop the fund of her accomplishments. She read, she observed, she reflected. Without instructors, she taughtherself to draw, to sing, and to understand the more polite Europeanlanguages. As she had no society in this remote situation but that ofpeasants, she had no idea of honour or superiority to be derived fromher acquisitions; but pursued them from a secret taste, and as thesources of personal enjoyment. 

A mutual attachment gradually arose between her and the only son of herguardian. His father led him, from early youth, to the labours and thesports of the field, and there was little congeniality between hispursuits and those of Laura. But this was a defect that she was slow todiscover. She had never been accustomed to society in her chosenamusements, and habit at that time even made her conceive, that theywere indebted to solitude for an additional relish. The youthful rustichad great integrity, great kindness of heart, and was a lad of excellentsense. He was florid, well-proportioned, and the goodness of hisdisposition made his manners amiable. Accomplishments greater than theseshe had never seen in human form, since the death of her father. Infact, she is scarcely to be considered as a sufferer in this instance;since, in her forlorn and destitute condition, it is little probable, when we consider the habits and notions that now prevail, that heraccomplishments, unassisted by fortune, would have procured her an equalalliance in marriage. 

When she became a mother her heart opened to a new affection. The ideanow presented itself, which had never occurred before, that in herchildren at least she might find the partners and companions of herfavourite employments. She was, at the time of my arrival, mother offour, the eldest of which was a son. To all of them she had been a mostassiduous instructor. It was well for her perhaps that she obtained thissphere for the exercise of her mind. It came just at the period when thecharm which human life derives from novelty is beginning to wear off. Itgave her new activity and animation. It is perhaps impossible that therefinements of which human nature is capable should not, after a time, subside into sluggishness, if they be not aided by the influence ofsociety and affection. 

The son of the Welch farmer by this admirable woman was about seventeenyears of age at the time of my settlement in their neighbourhood. Hiseldest sister was one year younger than himself. The whole familycomposed a group, with which a lover of tranquillity and virtue wouldhave delighted to associate in any situation. It is easy therefore toconceive how much I rejoiced in their friendship, in this distantretirement, and suffering, as I felt myself, from the maltreatment anddesertion of my species. The amiable Laura had a wonderful quickness ofeye, and rapidity of apprehension; but this feature in her countenancewas subdued by a sweetness of disposition, such as I never in any otherinstance saw expressed in the looks of a human being. She soondistinguished me by her kindness and friendship; for, living as she haddone, though familiar with the written productions of a cultivatedintellect, she had never seen the thing itself realised in a livingbeing, except in the person of her father. She delighted to conversewith me upon subjects of literature and taste, and she eagerly invitedmy assistance in the education of her children. The son, though young, had been so happily improved and instructed by his mother, that I foundin him nearly all the most essential qualities we require in a friend. Engagement and inclination equally led me to pass a considerable part ofevery day in this agreeable society. Laura treated me as if I had beenone of the family; and I sometimes flattered myself that I might one daybecome such in reality. What an enviable resting-place for me, who hadknown nothing but calamity, and had scarcely dared to look for sympathyand kindness in the countenance of a human being!

The sentiments of friendship which early disclosed themselves between meand the member of this amiable family daily became stronger. At everyinterview, the confidence reposed in me by the mother increased. Whileour familiarity gained in duration, it equally gained in that subtletyof communication by which it seemed to shoot forth its roots in everydirection. There are a thousand little evanescent touches in thedevelopment of a growing friendship, that are neither thought of, norwould be understood, between common acquaintances. I honoured andesteemed the respectable Laura like a mother; for, though the differenceof our ages was by no means sufficient to authorise the sentiment, itwas irresistibly suggested to me by the fact of her always beingpresented to my observation under the maternal character. Her son was alad of great understanding, generosity, and feeling, and of nocontemptible acquirements; while his tender years, and the uncommonexcellence of his mother, subtracted something from the independence ofhis judgment, and impressed him with a sort of religious deference forher will. In the eldest daughter I beheld the image of Laura; for that Ifelt attached to her for the present; and I sometimes conceived itprobable that hereafter I might learn to love her for her ownsake--Alas, it was thus that I amused myself with the visions of distantyears, while I stood in reality on the brink of the precipice!

It will perhaps be thought strange that I never once communicated theparticulars of my story to this amiable matron, or to my young friend, for such I may also venture to call him, her son. But in truth Iabhorred the memory of this story; I placed all my hopes of happiness inthe prospect of its being consigned to oblivion. I fondly flatteredmyself that such would be the event: in the midst of my unlooked-forhappiness, I scarcely recollected, or, recollecting, was disposed toyield but a small degree of credit to, the menaces of Mr. Falkland. 

One day, that I was sitting alone with the accomplished Laura, sherepeated his all-dreadful name. I started with astonishment, amazedthat a woman like this, who knew nobody, who lived as it were alone in acorner of the universe, who had never in a single instance entered intoany fashionable circle, this admirable and fascinating hermit, should, by some unaccountable accident, have become acquainted with this fataland tremendous name. Astonishment however was not my only sensation. Ibecame pale with terror; I rose from my seat; I attempted to sit downagain; I reeled out of the room, and hastened to bury myself insolitude. The unexpectedness of the incident took from me allprecaution, and overwhelmed my faculties. The penetrating Laura observedmy behaviour; but nothing further occurred to excite her attention to itat that time; and, concluding from my manner that enquiry would bepainful to me, she humanely suppressed her curiosity. 

I afterwards found that Mr. Falkland had been known to the father ofLaura; that he had been acquainted with the story of Count Malvesi, andwith a number of other transactions redounding in the highest degree tothe credit of the gallant Englishman. The Neapolitan had left letters inwhich these transactions were recorded, and which spoke of Mr. Falklandin the highest terms of panegyric. Laura had been used to regard everylittle relic of her father with a sort of religious veneration; and, bythis accident, the name of Mr. Falkland was connected in her mind withthe sentiments of unbounded esteem. 

The scene by which I was surrounded was perhaps more grateful to me, than it would have been to most other persons with my degree ofintellectual cultivation. Sore with persecution and distress, andbleeding at almost every vein, there was nothing I so much coveted asrest and tranquillity. It seemed as if my faculties were, at least forthe time, exhausted by the late preternatural intensity of theirexertions, and that they stood indispensably in need of a period ofcomparative suspension. 

This was however but a temporary feeling. My mind had always beenactive, and I was probably indebted to the sufferings I had endured, andthe exquisite and increased susceptibility they produced, for newenergies. I soon felt the desire of some additional and vigorouspursuit. In this state of mind, I met by accident, in a neglected cornerof the house of one of my neighbours, with a general dictionary of fourof the northern languages. This incident gave a direction to mythoughts. In my youth I had not been inattentive to languages. Idetermined to attempt, at least for my own use, an etymological analysisof the English language. I easily perceived, that this pursuit had oneadvantage to a person in my situation, and that a small number of books, consulted with this view, would afford employment for a considerabletime. I procured other dictionaries. In my incidental reading, I notedthe manner in which words were used, and applied these remarks to theillustration of my general enquiry. I was unintermitted in my assiduity, and my collections promised to accumulate. Thus I was provided withsources both of industry and recreation, the more completely to divertmy thoughts from the recollection of my past misfortunes. 

In this state, so grateful to my feelings, week after week glided awaywithout interruption and alarm. The situation in which I was now placedhad some resemblance to that in which I had spent my earlier years, withthe advantage of a more attractive society, and a riper judgment. Ibegan to look back upon the intervening period as upon a distempered andtormenting dream; or rather perhaps my feelings were like those of aman recovered from an interval of raging delirium, from ideas of horror, confusion, flight, persecution, agony, and despair! When I recollectedwhat I had undergone, it was not without satisfaction, as therecollection of a thing that was past; every day augmented my hope thatit was never to return. Surely the dark and terrific menaces of Mr. Falkland were rather the perturbed suggestions of his angry mind, thanthe final result of a deliberate and digested system! How happy should Ifeel, beyond the ordinary lot of man, if, after the terrors I hadundergone, I should now find myself unexpectedly restored to theimmunities of a human being!

While I was thus soothing my mind with fond imaginations, it happenedthat a few bricklayers and their labourers came over from a distance offive or six miles, to work upon some additions to one of the better sortof houses in the town, which had changed its tenant. No incident couldbe more trivial than this, had it not been for a strange coincidence oftime between this circumstance, and a change which introduced itselfinto my situation. This first manifested itself in a sort of shynesswith which I was treated, first by one person, and then another, of mynew-formed acquaintance. They were backward to enter into conversationwith me, and answered my enquiries with an awkward and embarrassed air. When they met me in the street or the field, their countenancescontracted a cloud, and they endeavoured to shun me. My scholars quittedme one after another; and I had no longer any employment in mymechanical profession. It is impossible to describe the sensations, which the gradual but uninterrupted progress of this revolution producedin my mind. It seemed as if I had some contagious disease, from whichevery man shrunk with alarm, and left me to perish unassisted and alone. I asked one man and another to explain to me the meaning of theseappearances; but every one avoided the task, and answered in an evasiveand ambiguous manner. I sometimes supposed that it was all a delusion ofthe imagination; till the repetition of the sensation brought thereality too painfully home to my apprehension. There are few things thatgive a greater shock to the mind, than a phenomenon in the conduct ofour fellow men, of great importance to our concerns, and for which weare unable to assign any plausible reason. At times I was half inclinedto believe that the change was not in other men, but that somealienation of my own understanding generated the horrid vision. Iendeavoured to awaken from my dream, and return to my former state ofenjoyment and happiness; but in vain. To the same consideration it maybe ascribed, that, unacquainted with the source of the evil, observingits perpetual increase, and finding it, so far as I could perceive, entirely arbitrary in its nature, I was unable to ascertain its limits, or the degree in which it would finally overwhelm me. 

In the midst however of the wonderful and seemingly inexplicable natureof this scene, there was one idea that instantly obtruded itself, andthat I could never after banish from my mind. It is Falkland! In vain Istruggled against the seeming improbability of the supposition. In vainI said, "Mr. Falkland, wise as he is, and pregnant in resources, acts byhuman, not by supernatural means. He may overtake me by surprise, and ina manner of which I had no previous expectation; but he cannot produce agreat and notorious effect without some visible agency, howeverdifficult it may be to trace that agency to its absolute author. Hecannot, like those invisible personages who are supposed from time totime to interfere in human affairs, ride in the whirlwind, shroudhimself in clouds and impenetrable darkness, and scatter destructionupon the earth from his secret habitation. " Thus it was that I bribed myimagination, and endeavoured to persuade myself that my presentunhappiness originated in a different source from my former. All evilsappeared trivial to me, in comparison with the recollection andperpetuation of my parent misfortune. I felt like a man distracted, bythe incoherence of my ideas to my present situation, excluding from itthe machinations of Mr. Falkland, on the one hand; and on the other, bythe horror I conceived at the bare possibility of again encountering hisanimosity, after a suspension of many weeks, a suspension as I had hopedfor ever. An interval like this was an age to a person in the calamitoussituation I had so long experienced. But, in spite of my efforts, Icould not banish from my mind the dreadful idea. My original conceptionsof the genius and perseverance of Mr. Falkland had been such, that Icould with difficulty think any thing impossible to him. I knew not howto set up my own opinions of material causes and the powers of the humanmind, as the limits of existence. Mr. Falkland had always been to myimagination an object of wonder, and that which excites our wonder wescarcely suppose ourselves competent to analyse. 

It may well be conceived, that one of the first persons to whom Ithought of applying for an explanation of this dreadful mystery was theaccomplished Laura. My disappointment here cut me to the heart. I wasnot prepared for it. I recollected the ingenuousness of her nature, thefrankness of her manners, the partiality with which she had honoured me. If I were mortified with the coldness, the ruggedness, and the cruelmistake of principles with which the village inhabitants repelled myenquiries, the mortification I suffered, only drove me more impetuouslyto seek the cure of my griefs from this object of my admiration. "InLaura, " said I, "I am secure from these vulgar prejudices. I confide inher justice. I am sure she will not cast me off unheard, nor withoutstrictly examining a question on all sides, in which every thing that isvaluable to a person she once esteemed, may be involved. "

Thus encouraging myself, I turned my steps to the place of herresidence. As I passed along I called up all my recollection, I summonedmy faculties. "I may be made miserable, " said I, "but it shall not befor want of any exertion of mine, that promises to lead to happiness. Iwill be clear, collected, simple in narrative, ingenuous incommunication. I will leave nothing unsaid that the case may require. Iwill not volunteer any thing that relates to my former transactions withMr. Falkland; but, if I find that my present calamity is connected withthose transactions, I will not fear but that by an honest explanation Ishall remove it. "

I knocked at the door. A servant appeared, and told me that her mistresshoped I would excuse her; she must really beg to dispense with my visit. 

I was thunderstruck. I was rooted to the spot. I had been carefullypreparing my mind for every thing that I supposed likely to happen, butthis event had not entered into my calculations. I roused myself in apartial degree, and walked away without uttering a word. 

I had not gone far before I perceived one of the workmen following me, who put into my hands a billet. The contents were these:--

"MR. WILLIAMS, "Let me see you no more. I have a right at least to expect yourcompliance with this requisition; and, upon that condition, I pardon theenormous impropriety and guilt with which you have conducted yourself tome and my family. 

"LAURA DENISON. "

The sensations with which I read these few lines are indescribable. Ifound in them a dreadful confirmation of the calamity that on all sidesinvaded me. But what I felt most was the unmoved coldness with whichthey appeared to be written. This coldness from Laura, my comforter, myfriend, my mother! To dismiss, to cast me off for ever, without onethought of compunction!

I determined however, in spite of her requisition, and in spite of hercoldness, to have an explanation with her. I did not despair ofconquering the antipathy she harboured. I did not fear that I shouldrouse her from the vulgar and unworthy conception, of condemning a man, in points the most material to his happiness, without stating theaccusations that are urged against him, and without hearing him inreply. 

Though I had no doubt, by means of resolution, of gaining access to herin her house, yet I preferred taking her unprepared, and not warmedagainst me by any previous contention. Accordingly, the next morning, atthe time she usually devoted to half an hour's air and exercise, Ihastened to her garden, leaped the paling, and concealed myself in anarbour. Presently I saw, from my retreat, the younger part of the familystrolling through the garden, and from thence into the fields; but itwas not my business to be seen by them. I looked after them however withearnestness, unobserved; and I could not help asking myself, with adeep and heartfelt sigh, whether it were possible that I saw them nowfor the last time?

They had not advanced far into the fields, before their mother made herappearance. I observed in her her usual serenity and sweetness ofcountenance. I could feel my heart knocking against my ribs. My wholeframe was in a tumult. I stole out of the arbour; and, as I advancednearer, my pace became quickened. 

"For God's sake, madam, " exclaimed I, "give me a hearing! Do not avoidme!"

She stood still. "No, sir, " she replied, "I shall not avoid you. Iwished you to dispense with this meeting; but since I cannot obtainthat--I am conscious of no wrong; and therefore, though the meetinggives me pain, it inspires me with no fear. "

"Oh, madam, " answered I, "my friend! the object of all my reverence!whom I once ventured to call my mother! can you wish not to hear me? Canyon have no anxiety for my justification, whatever may be theunfavourable impression you may have received against me?"

"Not an atom. I have neither wish nor inclination to hear you. That talewhich, in its plain and unadorned state, is destructive of the characterof him to whom it relates, no colouring can make an honest one. "

"Good God! Can you think of condemning a man when you have heard onlyone side of his story?"

"Indeed I can, " replied she with dignity. "The maxim of hearing bothsides may be very well in some cases; but it would be ridiculous tosuppose that there are not cases, that, at the first mention, are tooclear to admit the shadow of a doubt. By a well-concerted defence youmay give me new reasons to admire your abilities; but I am acquaintedwith them already. I can admire your abilities, without tolerating yourcharacter. "

"Madam! Amiable, exemplary Laura! whom, in the midst of all yourharshness and inflexibility, I honour! I conjure you, by every thingthat is sacred, to tell me what it is that has filled you with thissudden aversion to me. "

"No, sir; that you shall never obtain from me. I have nothing to say toyou. I stand still and hear you; because virtue disdains to appearabashed and confounded in the presence of vice. Your conduct even atthis moment, in my opinion, condemns you. True virtue refuses thedrudgery of explanation and apology. True virtue shines by its ownlight, and needs no art to set it off. You have the first principles ofmorality as yet to learn. "

"And can you imagine, that the most upright conduct is always superiorto the danger of ambiguity?"

"Exactly so. Virtue, sir, consists in actions, and not in words. Thegood man and the bad are characters precisely opposite, not charactersdistinguished from each other by imperceptible shades. The Providencethat rules us all, has not permitted us to be left without a clew in themost important of all questions. Eloquence may seek to confound it; butit shall be my care to avoid its deceptive influence. I do not wish tohave my understanding perverted, and all the differences of thingsconcealed from my apprehension. "

"Madam, madam! it would be impossible for you to hold this language, ifyou had not always lived in this obscure retreat, if you had ever beenconversant with the passions and institutions of men. "

"It may be so. And, if that be the case, I have great reason to bethankful to my God, who has thus enabled me to preserve the innocence ofmy heart, and the integrity of my understanding. "

"Can you believe then that ignorance is the only, or the safest, preservative of integrity?"

"Sir, I told you at first, and I repeat to you again, that all yourdeclamation is in vain. I wish you would have saved me and yourself thatpain which is the only thing that can possibly result from it. But letus suppose that virtue could ever be the equivocal thing you would haveme believe. Is it possible, if you had been honest, that you would nothave acquainted me with your story? Is it possible, that you would haveleft me to have been informed of it by a mere accident, and with all theshocking aggravations you well knew that accident would give it? Is itpossible you should have violated the most sacred of all trusts, andhave led me unknowingly to admit to the intercourse of my children acharacter, which if, as you pretend, it is substantially honest, youcannot deny to be blasted and branded in the face of the whole world?Go, sir; I despise you. You are a monster and not a man. I cannot tellwhether my personal situation misleads me; but, to my thinking, thislast action of yours is worse than all the rest. Nature has constitutedme the protector of my children. I shall always remember and resent theindelible injury you have done them. You have wounded me to the veryheart, and have taught me to what a pitch the villainy of man canextend. "

"Madam, I can be silent no longer. I see that you have by some meanscome to a hearing of the story of Mr. Falkland. "

"I have. I am astonished you have the effrontery to pronounce his name. That name has been a denomination, as far back as my memory can reach, for the most exalted of mortals, the wisest and most generous of men. "

"Madam, I owe it to myself to set you right on this subject. Mr. Falkland--"

"Mr. Williams, I see my children returning from the fields, and comingthis way. The basest action you ever did was the obtruding yourself uponthem as an instructor. I insist that you see them no more. I command youto be silent. I command you to withdraw. If you persist in your absurdresolution of expostulating with me, you must take some other time. "

I could continue no longer. I was in a manner heart-broken through thewhole of this dialogue. I could not think of protracting the pain ofthis admirable woman, upon whom, though I was innocent of the crimes sheimputed to me, I had inflicted so much pain already. I yielded to theimperiousness of her commands, and withdrew. 

I hastened, without knowing why, from the presence of Laura to my ownhabitation. Upon entering the house, an apartment of which I occupied, Ifound it totally deserted of its usual inhabitants. The woman and herchildren were gone to enjoy the freshness of the breeze. The husband wasengaged in his usual out-door occupations. The doors of persons of thelower order in this part of the country are secured, in the day-time, only with a latch. I entered, and went into the kitchen of the family. Here, as I looked round, my eyes accidentally glanced upon a paper lyingin one corner, which, by some association I was unable to explain, roused in me a strong sensation of suspicion and curiosity. I eagerlywent towards it, caught it up, and found it to be the very paper of theWONDERFUL AND SURPRISING HISTORY OF CALEB WILLIAMS, the discovery ofwhich, towards the close of my residence in London, had produced in mesuch inexpressible anguish. 

This encounter at once cleared up all the mystery that hung upon my latetransactions. Abhorred and intolerable certainty succeeded to the doubtswhich had haunted my mind. It struck me with the rapidity of lightning. I felt a sudden torpor and sickness that pervaded every fibre of myframe. 

Was there no hope that remained for me? Was acquittal useless? Was thereno period, past or in prospect, that could give relief to my sufferings?Was the odious and atrocious falsehood that had been invented againstme, to follow me wherever I went, to strip me of character, to depriveme of the sympathy and good-will of mankind, to wrest from me the verybread by which life must be sustained?

For the space perhaps of half an hour the agony I felt from thistermination to my tranquillity, and the expectation it excited of theenmity which would follow me through every retreat, was such as tobereave me of all consistent thinking, much more of the power of comingto any resolution. As soon as this giddiness and horror of the mindsubsided, and the deadly calm that invaded my faculties was no more, onestiff and master gale gained the ascendancy, and drove me to an instantdesertion of this late cherished retreat. I had no patience to enterinto further remonstrance and explanation with the inhabitants of mypresent residence. I believed that it was in vain to hope to recover thefavourable prepossession and tranquillity I had lately enjoyed. Inencountering the prejudices that were thus armed against me, I shouldhave to deal with a variety of dispositions, and, though I might succeedwith some, I could not expect to succeed with all. I had seen too muchof the reign of triumphant falsehood, to have that sanguine confidencein the effects of my innocence, which would have suggested itself to themind of any other person of my propensities and my age. The recentinstance which had occurred in my conversation with Laura might wellcontribute to discourage me. I could not endure the thought of opposingthe venom that was thus scattered against me, in detail and through itsminuter particles. If ever it should be necessary to encounter it, if Iwere pursued like a wild beast, till I could no longer avoid turningupon my hunters, I would then turn upon the true author of thisunprincipled attack; I would encounter the calumny in its strong hold; Iwould rouse myself to an exertion hitherto unessayed; and, by thefirmness, intrepidity, and unalterable constancy I should display, wouldyet compel mankind to believe Mr. Falkland a suborner and a murderer!

CHAPTER XIV. 

I hasten to the conclusion of my melancholy story. I began to write soonafter the period to which I have now conducted it. This was anotherresource that my mind, ever eager in inventing means to escape from mymisery, suggested. In my haste to withdraw myself from the retreat inWales, where first the certainty of Mr. Falkland's menaces was confirmedto me, I left behind me the apparatus of my etymological enquiries, andthe papers I had written upon the subject. I have never been able topersuade myself to resume this pursuit. It is always discouraging, tobegin over again a laborious task, and exert one's self to recover aposition we had already occupied. I knew not how soon or how abruptly Imight be driven from any new situation; the appendages of the study inwhich I had engaged were too cumbrous for this state of dependence anduncertainty; they only served to give new sharpness to the enmity of myfoe, and new poignancy to my hourly-renewing distress. 

But what was of greatest importance, and made the deepest impressionupon my mind, was my separation from the family of Laura. Fool that Iwas, to imagine that there was any room for me in the abodes offriendship and tranquillity! It was now first, that I felt, with themost intolerable acuteness, how completely I was cut off from the wholehuman species. Other connections I had gained, comparatively withoutinterest; and I saw them dissolved without the consummation of agony. Ihad never experienced the purest refinements of friendship, but in twoinstances, that of Collins, and this of the family of Laura. Solitude, separation, banishment! These are words often in the mouths of humanbeings; but few men except myself have felt the full latitude of theirmeaning. The pride of philosophy has taught us to treat man as anindividual. He is no such thing. He holds necessarily, indispensably, tohis species. He is like those twin-births, that have two heads indeed, and four hands; but, if you attempt to detach them from each other, theyare inevitably subjected to miserable and lingering destruction. 

It was this circumstance, more than all the rest, that gradually gorgedmy heart with abhorrence of Mr. Falkland. I could not think of his namebut with a sickness and a loathing that seemed more than human. It wasby his means that I suffered the loss of one consolation after another, of every thing that was happiness, or that had the resemblance ofhappiness. 

The writing of these memoirs served me as a source of avocation forseveral years. For some time I had a melancholy satisfaction in it. Iwas better pleased to retrace the particulars of calamities that hadformerly afflicted me, than to look forward, as at other times I was tooapt to do, to those by which I might hereafter be overtaken. I conceivedthat my story, faithfully digested, would carry in it an impression oftruth that few men would be able to resist; or, at worst, that, byleaving it behind me when I should no longer continue to exist, posterity might be induced to do me justice; and, seeing in my examplewhat sort of evils are entailed upon mankind by society as it is atpresent constituted, might be inclined to turn their attention upon thefountain from which such bitter waters have been accustomed to flow. Butthese motives have diminished in their influence. I have contracted adisgust for life and all its appendages. Writing, which was at first apleasure, is changed into a burthen. I shall compress into a smallcompass what remains to be told. 

I discovered, not long after the period of which I am speaking, theprecise cause of the reverse I had experienced in my residence in Wales, and, included in that cause, what it was I had to look for in my futureadventures. Mr. Falkland had taken the infernal Gines into his pay, aman critically qualified for the service in which he was now engaged, bythe unfeeling brutality of his temper, by his habits of mind at onceaudacious and artful, and by the peculiar animosity and vengeance he hadconceived against me. The employment to which this man was hired, wasthat of following me from place to place, blasting my reputation, andpreventing me from the chance, by continuing long in one residence, ofacquiring a character for integrity, that should give new weight to anyaccusation I might at a future time be induced to prefer. Ho had come tothe seat of my residence with the bricklayers and labourers I havementioned; and, while he took care to keep out of sight so far asrelated to me, was industrious in disseminating that which, in the eyeof the world, seemed to amount to a demonstration of the profligacy anddetestableness of my character. It was no doubt from him that thedetested scroll had been procured, which I had found in my habitationimmediately prior to my quitting it. In all this Mr. Falkland, reasoningupon his principles, was only employing a necessary precaution. Therewas something in the temper of his mind, that impressed him withaversion to the idea of violently putting an end to my existence; at thesame time that unfortunately he could never deem himself sufficientlysecured against my recrimination, so long as I remained alive. As to thefact of Gines being retained by him for this tremendous purpose, he byno means desired that it should become generally known; but neither didhe look upon the possibility of its being known with terror. It wasalready too notorious for his wishes, that I had advanced the mostodious charges against him. If he regarded me with abhorrence as theadversary of his fame, those persons who had had occasion to be in anydegree acquainted with our history, did not entertain less abhorrenceagainst me for my own sake. If they should at any time know the pains heexerted in causing my evil reputation to follow me, they would considerit as an act of impartial justice, perhaps as a generous anxiety toprevent other men from being imposed upon and injured, as he had been. 

What expedient was I to employ for the purpose of counteracting themeditated and barbarous prudence, which was thus destined, in allchanges of scene, to deprive me of the benefits and consolations ofhuman society? There was one expedient against which I was absolutelydetermined--disguise. I had experienced so many mortifications, and suchintolerable restraint, when I formerly had recourse to it; it wasassociated in my memory with sensations of such acute anguish, that mymind was thus far entirely convinced: life was not worth purchasing atso high a price! But, though in this respect I was wholly resolved, there was another point that did not appear so material, and in whichtherefore I was willing to accommodate myself to circumstances. I wascontented, if that would insure my peace, to submit to the otherwiseunmanly expedient of passing by a different name. 

But the change of my name, the abruptness with which I removed fromplace to place, the remoteness and the obscurity which I proposed tomyself in the choice of my abode, were all insufficient to elude thesagacity of Gines, or the unrelenting constancy with which Mr. Falklandincited my tormentor to pursue me. Whithersoever I removed myself it wasnot long before I had occasion to perceive this detested adversary in myrear. No words can enable me to do justice to the sensations which thiscircumstance produced in me. It was like what has been described of theeye of Omniscience, pursuing the guilty sinner, and darting a ray thatawakens him to new sensibility, at the very moment that, otherwise, exhausted nature would lull him into a temporary oblivion of thereproaches of his conscience. Sleep fled from my eyes. No walls couldhide me from the discernment of this hated foe. Every where his industrywas unwearied to create for me new distress. Rest I had none; relief Ihad none: never could I count upon an instant's security; never could Iwrap myself in the shroud of oblivion. The minutes in which I did notactually perceive him, were contaminated and blasted with the certainexpectation of his speedy interference. In my first retreat I had passeda few weeks of delusive tranquillity, but never after was I happy enoughto attain to so much as that shadowy gratification. I spent some yearsin this dreadful vicissitude of pain. My sensations at certain periodsamounted to insanity. 

I pursued in every succeeding instance the conduct I had adopted atfirst. I determined never to enter into a contest of accusation anddefence with the execrable Gines. If I could have submitted to it inother respects, what purpose would it answer? I should have but animperfect and mutilated story to tell. This story had succeeded withpersons already prepossessed in my favour by personal intercourse; butcould it succeed with strangers? It had succeeded so long as I was ableto hide myself from my pursuers; but could it succeed now, that thisappeared impracticable, and that they proceeded by arming against me awhole vicinity at once?

It is inconceivable the mischiefs that this kind of existence included. Why should I insist upon such aggravations as hunger, beggary, andexternal wretchedness? These were an inevitable consequence. It was bythe desertion of mankind that, in each successive instance, I was madeacquainted with my fate. Delay in such a moment served but to increasethe evil; and when I fled, meagreness and penury were the ordinaryattendants of my course. But this was a small consideration. Indignationat one time, and unconquerable perseverance at another, sustained me, where humanity, left to itself, would probably have sunk. 

It has already appeared that I was not of a temper to endure calamity, without endeavouring, by every means I could devise, to elude and disarmit. Recollecting, as I was habituated to do, the various projects bywhich my situation could be meliorated, the question occurred to me, "Why should I be harassed by the pursuits of this Gines? Why, man toman, may I not, by the powers of my mind, attain the ascendancy overhim? At present he appears to be the persecutor, and I the persecuted:is not this difference the mere creature of the imagination? May I notemploy my ingenuity to vex him with difficulties, and laugh at theendless labour to which he will be condemned?"

Alas, this is a speculation for a mind at ease! It is not thepersecution, but the catastrophe which is annexed to it, that makes thedifference between the tyrant and the sufferer! In mere corporalexertion the hunter perhaps is upon a level with the miserable animal hepursues! But could it be forgotten by either of us, that at every stageGines was to gratify his malignant passions, by disseminating charges ofthe most infamous nature, and exciting against me the abhorrence ofevery honest bosom, while I was to sustain the still-repeatedannihilation of my peace, my character, and my bread? Could I, by anyrefinement of reason, convert this dreadful series into sport? I had nophilosophy that qualified me for so extraordinary an effort. If, underother circumstances, I could even have entertained so strange animagination, I was restrained in the present instance by the necessityof providing for myself the means of subsistence, and the fetters which, through that necessity, the forms of human society imposed upon myexertions. 

In one of those changes of residence, to which my miserable faterepeatedly compelled me, I met, upon a road which I was obliged totraverse, the friend of my youth, my earliest and best beloved friend, the venerable Collins. It was one of those misfortunes which served toaccumulate my distress, that this man had quitted the island of GreatBritain only a very few weeks before that fatal reverse of fortune whichhad ever since pursued me with unrelenting eagerness. Mr. Falkland, inaddition to the large estate he possessed in England, had a veryvaluable plantation in the West Indies. This property had been greatlymismanaged by the person who had the direction of it on the spot; and, after various promises and evasions on his part, which, however theymight serve to beguile the patience of Mr. Falkland, had been attendedwith no salutary fruits, it was resolved that Mr. Collins should go overin person, to rectify the abuses which had so long prevailed. There hadeven been some idea of his residing several years, if not settlingfinally, upon the plantation. From that hour to the present I had neverreceived the smallest intelligence respecting him. 

I had always considered the circumstance of his critical absence as oneof my severest misfortunes. Mr. Collins had been one of the firstpersons, even in the period of my infancy, to conceive hopes of me, asof something above the common standard; and had contributed more thanany other to encourage and assist my juvenile studies. He had been theexecutor of the little property of my father, who had fixed upon him forthat purpose in consideration of the mutual affection that existedbetween us; and I seemed, on every account, to have more claim upon hisprotection than upon that of any other human being. I had alwaysbelieved that, had he been present in the crisis of my fortune, he wouldhave felt a conviction of my innocence; and, convinced himself, would, by means of the venerableness and energy of his character, haveinterposed so effectually, as to have saved me the greater part of mysubsequent misfortunes. 

There was yet another idea in my mind relative to this subject, whichhad more weight with me, than even the substantial exertions offriendship I should have expected from him. The greatest aggravation ofmy present lot was, that I was cut off from the friendship of mankind. Ican safely affirm, that poverty and hunger, that endless wanderings, that a blasted character and the curses that clung to my name, were allof them slight misfortunes compared to this. I endeavoured to sustainmyself by the sense of my integrity, but the voice of no man upon earthechoed to the voice of my conscience. "I called aloud; but there wasnone to answer; there was none that regarded. " To me the whole world wasunhearing as the tempest, and as cold as the torpedo. Sympathy, themagnetic virtue, the hidden essence of our life, was extinct. Nor wasthis the sum of my misery. This food, so essential to an intelligentexistence, seemed perpetually renewing before me in its fairest colours, only the more effectually to elude my grasp, and to mock my hunger. Fromtime to time I was prompted to unfold the affections of my soul, only tobe repelled with the greater anguish, and to be baffled in a way themost intolerably mortifying. 

No sight therefore could give me a purer delight than that which nowpresented itself to my eyes. It was some time however, before either ofus recognised the person of the other. Ten years had elapsed since ourlast interview. Mr. Collins looked much older than he had done at thatperiod; in addition to which, he was, in his present appearance, pale, sickly, and thin. These unfavourable effects had been produced by thechange of climate, particularly trying to persons in an advanced periodof life. Add to which, I supposed him to be at that moment in the WestIndies. I was probably as much altered in the period that had elapsed ashe had been. I was the first to recollect him. He was on horseback; I onfoot. I had suffered him to pass me. In a moment the full idea of who hewas rushed upon my mind; I ran; I called with an impetuous voice; I wasunable to restrain the vehemence of my emotions. 

The ardour of my feelings disguised my usual tone of speaking, whichotherwise Mr. Collins would infallibly have recognised. His sight wasalready dim; he pulled up his horse till I should overtake him; and thensaid, "Who are you? I do not know you. "

"My father!" exclaimed I, embracing one of his knees with fervour anddelight, "I am your son; once your little Caleb, whom you a thousandtimes loaded with your kindness!"

The unexpected repetition of my name gave a kind of shuddering emotionto my friend, which was however checked by his age, and the calm andbenevolent philosophy that formed one of his most conspicuous habits. 

"I did not expect to see you!" replied he: "I did not wish it!"

"My best, my oldest friend!" answered I, respect blending itself with myimpatience, "do not say so! I have not a friend any where in the wholeworld but you! In you at least let me find sympathy and reciprocalaffection! If you knew how anxiously I have thought of you during thewhole period of your absence, you would not thus grievously disappointme in your return!"

"How is it, " said Mr. Collins, gravely, "that you have been reduced tothis forlorn condition? Was it not the inevitable consequence of yourown actions?"

"The actions of others, not mine! Does not your heart tell you that I aminnocent?"

"No. My observation of your early character taught me that you would beextraordinary; but, unhappily, all extraordinary men are not good men:that seems to be a lottery, dependent on circumstances apparently themost trivial. "

"Will you hear my justification? I am as sure as I am of my existence, that I can convince you of my purity. "

"Certainly, if you require it, I will hear you. But that must not bejust now. I could have been glad to decline it wholly. At my age I amnot fit for the storm; and I am not so sanguine as you in my expectationof the result. Of what would you convince me? That Mr. Falkland is asuborner and murderer?"

I made no answer. My silence was an affirmative to the question. 

"And what benefit will result from this conviction? I have known you apromising boy, whose character might turn to one side or the other asevents should decide. I have known Mr. Falkland in his maturer years, and have always admired him, as the living model of liberality andgoodness. If you could change all my ideas, and show me that there wasno criterion by which vice might be prevented from being mistaken forvirtue, what benefit would arise from that? I must part with all myinterior consolation, and all my external connections. And for what?What is it you propose? The death of Mr. Falkland by the hands of thehangman. "

"No; I will not hurt a hair of his head, unless compelled to it by aprinciple of defence. But surely you owe me justice?"

"What justice? The justice of proclaiming your innocence? You know whatconsequences are annexed to that. But I do not believe I shall find youinnocent. If you even succeed in perplexing my understanding, you willnot succeed in enlightening it. Such is the state of mankind, thatinnocence, when involved in circumstances of suspicion, can scarcelyever make out a demonstration of its purity; and guilt can often make usfeel an insurmountable reluctance to the pronouncing it guilt. Meanwhile, for the purchase of this uncertainty, I must sacrifice allthe remaining comforts of my life. I believe Mr. Falkland to bevirtuous; but I know him to be prejudiced. He would never forgive meeven this accidental parley, if by any means he should come to beacquainted with it. "

"Oh, argue not the consequences that are possible to result!" answeredI, impatiently, "I have a right to your kindness; I have a right to yourassistance!"

"You have them. You have them to a certain degree; and it is not likelythat, by any process of examination, you can have them entire. You knowmy habits of thinking. I regard you as vicious; but I do not considerthe vicious as proper objects of indignation and scorn. I consider youas a machine; you are not constituted, I am afraid, to be greatly usefulto your fellow men: but you did not make yourself; you are just whatcircumstances irresistibly compelled you to be. I am sorry for your illproperties; but I entertain no enmity against you, nothing butbenevolence. Considering you in the light in which I at present consideryou, I am ready to contribute every thing in my power to your realadvantage, and would gladly assist you, if I knew how, in detecting andextirpating the errors that have misled you. You have disappointed me, but I have no reproaches to utter: it is more necessary for me to feelcompassion for you, than that I should accumulate your misfortune by mycensures. "

What could I say to such a man as this? Amiable, incomparable man! Neverwas my mind more painfully divided than at that moment. The more heexcited my admiration, the more imperiously did my heart command me, whatever were the price it should cost, to extort his friendship. I waspersuaded that severe duty required of him, that he should reject allpersonal considerations, that he should proceed resolutely to theinvestigation of the truth, and that, if he found the result terminatingin my favour, he should resign all his advantages, and, deserted as Iwas by the world, make a common cause, and endeavour to compensate thegeneral injustice. But was it for me to force this conduct upon him, if, now in his declining years, his own fortitude shrank from it? Alas, neither he nor I foresaw the dreadful catastrophe that was so closelyimpending! Otherwise, I am well assured that no tenderness for hisremaining tranquillity would have withheld him from a compliance with mywishes! On the other hand, could I pretend to know what evils mightresult to him from his declaring himself my advocate? Might not hisintegrity be browbeaten and defeated, as mine had been? Did theimbecility of his grey hairs afford no advantage to my terribleadversary in the contest? Might not Mr. Falkland reduce him to acondition as wretched and low as mine? After all, was it not vice in meto desire to involve another man in my sufferings? If I regarded them asintolerable, this was still an additional reason why I should bear themalone. 

Influenced by these considerations, I assented to his views. I assentedto be thought hardly of by the man in the world whose esteem I mostardently desired, rather than involve him in possible calamity. Iassented to the resigning what appeared to me at that moment as the lastpracticable comfort of my life; a comfort, upon the thought of which, while I surrendered it, my mind dwelt with undescribable longings. Mr. Collins was deeply affected with the apparent ingenuousness with which Iexpressed my feelings. The secret struggle of his mind was, "Can this behypocrisy? The individual with whom I am conferring, if virtuous, is oneof the most disinterestedly virtuous persons in the world. " We toreourselves from each other. Mr. Collins promised, as far as he was able, to have an eye upon my vicissitudes, and to assist me, in every respectthat was consistent with a just recollection of consequences. Thus Iparted as it were with the last expiring hope of my mind; andvoluntarily consented, thus maimed and forlorn, to encounter all theevils that were yet in store for me. 

This is the latest event which at present I think it necessary torecord. I shall doubtless hereafter have further occasion to take up thepen. Great and unprecedented as my sufferings have been, I feelintimately persuaded that there are worse sufferings that await me. Whatmysterious cause is it that enables me to write this, and not to perishunder the horrible apprehension!

CHAPTER XV. 

It is as I foreboded. The presage with which I was visited wasprophetic. I am now to record a new and terrible revolution of myfortune and my mind. 

Having made experiment of various situations with one uniform result, Iat length determined to remove myself, if possible, from the reach of mypersecutor, by going into voluntary banishment from my native soil. Thiswas my last resource for tranquillity, for honest fame, for thoseprivileges to which human life is indebted for the whole of its value. "In some distant climate, " said I, "surely I may find that securitywhich is necessary to persevering pursuit; surely I may lift my headerect, associate with men upon the footing of a man, acquireconnections, and preserve them!" It is inconceivable with what ardentTeachings of the soul I aspired to this termination. 

This last consolation was denied me by the inexorable Falkland. 

At the time the project was formed I was at no great distance from theeast coast of the island, and I resolved to take ship at Harwich, andpass immediately into Holland. I accordingly repaired to that place, andwent, almost as soon as I arrived, to the port. But there was no vesselperfectly ready to sail. I left the port, and withdrew to an inn, where, after some time, I retired to a chamber. I was scarcely there before thedoor of the room was opened, and the man whose countenance was the mosthateful to my eyes, Gines, entered the apartment. He shut the door assoon as he entered. 

"Youngster, " said he, "I have a little private intelligence tocommunicate to you. I come as a friend, and that I may save you alabour-in-vain trouble. If you consider what I have to say in thatlight, it will be the better for you. It is my business now, do you see, for want of a better, to see that you do not break out of bounds. Notthat I much matter having one man for my employer, or dancing attendanceafter another's heels; but I have special kindness for you, for somegood turns that you wot of, and therefore I do not stand uponceremonies! You have led me a very pretty round already; and, out of thelove I bear you, you shall lead me as much further, if you will. Butbeware the salt seas! They are out of my orders. You are a prisoner atpresent, and I believe all your life will remain so. Thanks to themilk-and-water softness of your former master! If I had the ordering ofthese things, it should go with you in another fashion. As long as youthink proper, you are a prisoner within the rules; and the rules withwhich the soft-hearted squire indulges you, are all England, Scotland, and Wales. But you are not to go out of these climates. The squire isdetermined you shall never pass the reach of his disposal. He hastherefore given orders that, whenever you attempt so to do, you shall beconverted from a prisoner at large to a prisoner in good earnest. Afriend of mine followed you just now to the harbour; I was within call;and, if there had been any appearance of your setting your foot fromland, we should have been with you in a trice, and laid you fast by theheels. I would advise you, for the future, to keep at a proper distancefrom the sea, for fear of the worst. You see I tell you all this foryour good. For my part, I should be better satisfied if you were inlimbo, with a rope about your neck, and a comfortable bird's eyeprospect to the gallows: but I do as I am directed; and so good night toyou!"

The intelligence thus conveyed to me occasioned an instantaneousrevolution in both my intellectual and animal system. I disdained toanswer, or take the smallest notice of the fiend by whom it wasdelivered. It is now three days since I received it, and from thatmoment to the present my blood has been in a perpetual ferment. Mythoughts wander from one idea of horror to another, with incrediblerapidity. I have had no sleep. I have scarcely remained in one posturefor a minute together. It has been with the utmost difficulty that Ihave been able to command myself far enough to add a few pages to mystory. But, uncertain as I am of the events of each succeeding hour, Idetermined to force myself to the performance of this task. All is notright within me. How it will terminate, God knows. I sometimes fear thatI shall be wholly deserted of my reason. 

What--dark, mysterious, unfeeling, unrelenting tyrant!--is it come tothis? When Nero and Caligula swayed the Roman sceptre, it was a fearfulthing to offend these bloody rulers. The empire had already spreaditself from climate to climate, and from sea to sea. If their unhappyvictim fled to the rising of the sun, where the luminary of day seems tous first to ascend from the waves of the ocean, the power of the tyrantwas still behind him. If he withdrew to the west, to Hesperian darkness, and the shores of barbarian Thule, still he was not safe from hisgore-drenched foe. --Falkland! art thou the offspring, in whom thelineaments of these tyrants are faithfully preserved? Was the world, with all its climates, made in vain for thy helpless unoffending victim?

Tremble!

Tyrants have trembled, surrounded with whole armies of theirJanissaries! What should make thee inaccessible to my fury? No, I willuse no daggers! I will unfold a tale!--I will show thee to the world forwhat thou art; and all the men that live, shall confess my truth!--Didstthou imagine that I was altogether passive, a mere worm, organised tofeel sensations of pain, but no emotion of resentment? Didst thouimagine that there was no danger in inflicting on me pains howevergreat, miseries however dreadful? Didst thou believe me impotent, imbecile, and idiot-like, with no understanding to contrive thy ruin, and no energy to perpetrate it?

I will tell a tale--! The justice of the country shall hear me! Theelements of nature in universal uproar shall not interrupt me! I willspeak with a voice more fearful than thunder!--Why should I be supposedto speak from any dishonourable motive? I am under no prosecution now! Ishall not now appear to be endeavouring to remove a criminal indictmentfrom myself, by throwing it back on its author!--Shall I regret the ruinthat will overwhelm thee? Too long have I been tender-hearted andforbearing! What benefit has ever resulted from my mistaken clemency?There is no evil thou hast scrupled to accumulate upon me! Neither willI be more scrupulous! Thou hast shown no mercy; and thou shalt receivenone!--I must be calm! bold as a lion, yet collected!

This is a moment pregnant with fate. I know--I think I know--that I willbe triumphant, and crush my seemingly omnipotent foe. But, should it beotherwise, at least he shall not be every way successful. His fame shallnot be immortal as he thinks. These papers shall preserve the truth;they shall one day be published, and then the world shall do justice onus both. Recollecting that, I shall not die wholly without consolation. It is not to be endured that falsehood and tyranny should reign forever. 

How impotent are the precautions of man against the eternally existinglaws of the intellectual world! This Falkland has invented against meevery species of foul accusation. He has hunted me from city to city. He has drawn his lines of circumvallation round me that I may notescape. He has kept his scenters of human prey for ever at my heels. Hemay hunt me out of the world. --In vain! With this engine, this littlepen, I defeat all his machinations; I stab him in the very point he wasmost solicitous to defend!

Collins! I now address myself to you. I have consented that you shouldyield me no assistance in my present terrible situation. I am content todie rather than do any thing injurious to your tranquillity. Butremember, you are my father still! I conjure you, by all the love youever bore me, by the benefits you have conferred on me, by theforbearance and kindness towards you that now penetrates my soul, by myinnocence--for, if these be the last words I shall ever write, I dieprotesting my innocence!--by all these, or whatever tie more sacred hasinfluence on your soul, I conjure you, listen to my last request!Preserve these papers from destruction, and preserve them from Falkland!It is all I ask! I have taken care to provide a safe mode of conveyingthem into your possession: and I have a firm confidence, which I willnot suffer to depart from me, that they will one day find their way tothe public!

The pen lingers in my trembling fingers! Is there any thing I have leftunsaid?--The contents of the fatal trunk, from which all my misfortunesoriginated, I have never been able to ascertain. I once thought itcontained some murderous instrument or relic connected with the fate ofthe unhappy Tyrrel. I am now persuaded that the secret it encloses, is afaithful narrative of that and its concomitant transactions, written byMr. Falkland, and reserved in case of the worst, that, if by anyunforeseen event his guilt should come to be fully disclosed, it mightcontribute to redeem the wreck of his reputation. But the truth or thefalsehood of this conjecture is of little moment. If Falkland shallnever be detected to the satisfaction of the world, such a narrativewill probably never see the light. In that case this story of mine mayamply, severely perhaps, supply its place. 

I know not what it is that renders me thus solemn. I have a secretforeboding, as if I should never again be master of myself. If I succeedin what I now meditate respecting Falkland, my precaution in thedisposal of these papers will have been unnecessary; I shall no longerbe reduced to artifice and evasion. If I fail, the precaution willappear to have been wisely chosen. 

 * * * * *

POSTSCRIPT. 

All is over. I have carried into execution my meditated attempt. Mysituation is totally changed; I now sit down to give an account of it. For several weeks after the completion of this dreadful business, mymind was in too tumultuous a state to permit me to write. I think Ishall now be able to arrange my thoughts sufficiently for that purpose. Great God! how wondrous, how terrible are the events that haveintervened since I was last employed in a similar manner! It is nowonder that my thoughts were solemn, and my mind filled with horribleforebodings!

Having formed my resolution, I set out from Harwich, for themetropolitan town of the county in which Mr. Falkland resided. Gines, Iwell knew, was in my rear. That was of no consequence to me. He mightwonder at the direction I pursued, but he could not tell with whatpurpose I pursued it. My design was a secret, carefully locked up in myown breast. It was not without a sentiment of terror that I entered atown which had been the scene of my long imprisonment. I proceeded tothe house of the chief magistrate the instant I arrived, that I mightgive no time to my adversary to counterwork my proceeding. 

I told him who I was, and that I was come from a distant part of thekingdom, for the purpose of rendering him the medium of a charge ofmurder against my former patron. My name was already familiar to him. Heanswered, that he could not take cognizance of my deposition; that I wasan object of universal execration in that part of the world; and he wasdetermined upon no account to be the vehicle of my depravity. 

I warned him to consider well what he was doing. I called upon him forno favour; I only applied to him in the regular exercise of hisfunction. Would he take upon him to say that he had a right, at hispleasure, to suppress a charge of this complicated nature? I had toaccuse Mr. Falkland of repeated murders. The perpetrator knew that I wasin possession of the truth upon the subject; and, knowing that, I wentperpetually in danger of my life from his malice and revenge. I wasresolved to go through with the business, if justice were to be obtainedfrom any court in England. Upon what pretence did he refuse mydeposition? I was in every respect a competent witness. I was of age tounderstand the nature of an oath; I was in my perfect senses; I wasuntarnished by the verdict of any jury, or the sentence of any judge. His private opinion of my character could not alter the law of the land. I demanded to be confronted with Mr. Falkland, and I was well assured Ishould substantiate the charge to the satisfaction of the whole world. If he did not think proper to apprehend him upon my single testimony, Ishould be satisfied if he only sent him notice of the charge, andsummoned him to appear. 

The magistrate, finding me thus resolute, thought proper a little tolower his tone. He no longer absolutely refused to comply with myrequisition, but condescended to expostulate with me. He represented tome Mr. Falkland's health, which had for some years been exceedinglyindifferent; his having been once already brought to the most solemnexamination upon this charge; the diabolical malice in which alone myproceeding must have originated; and the ten-fold ruin it would bringdown upon my head. To all these representations my answer was short. "Iwas determined to go on, and would abide the consequences. " A summonswas at length granted, and notice sent to Mr. Falkland of the chargepreferred against him. 

Three days elapsed before any further step could be taken in thisbusiness. This interval in no degree contributed to tranquillise mymind. The thought of preferring a capital accusation against, andhastening the death of, such a man as Mr. Falkland, was by no means anopiate to reflection. At one time I commended the action, either as justrevenge (for the benevolence of my nature was in a great degree turnedto gall), or as necessary self-defence, or as that which, in animpartial and philanthropical estimate, included the smallest evil. Atanother time I was haunted with doubts. But, in spite of thesevariations of sentiment, I uniformly determined to persist! I felt as ifimpelled by a tide of unconquerable impulse. The consequences were suchas might well appal the stoutest heart. Either the ignominious executionof a man whom I had once so deeply venerated, and whom now I sometimessuspected not to be without his claims to veneration; or a confirmation, perhaps an increase, of the calamities I had so long endured. Yet theseI preferred to a state of uncertainty. I desired to know the worst; toput an end to the hope, however faint, which had been so long mytorment; and, above all, to exhaust and finish the catalogue ofexpedients that were at my disposition. My mind was worked up to a statelittle short of frenzy. My body was in a burning fever with theagitation of my thoughts. When I laid my hand upon my bosom or my head, it seemed to scorch them with the fervency of its heat. I could not sitstill for a moment. I panted with incessant desire that the dreadfulcrisis I had so eagerly invoked, were come, and were over. 

After an interval of three days, I met Mr. Falkland in the presence ofthe magistrate to whom I had applied upon the subject. I had only twohours' notice to prepare myself; Mr. Falkland seeming as eager as I tohave the question brought to a crisis, and laid at rest for ever. I hadan opportunity, before the examination, to learn that Mr. Forester wasdrawn by some business on an excursion on the continent; and thatCollins, whose health when I saw him was in a very precarious state, wasat this time confined with an alarming illness. His constitution hadbeen wholly broken by his West Indian expedition. The audience I met atthe house of the magistrate consisted of several gentlemen and othersselected for the purpose; the plan being, in some respects, as in theformer instance, to find a medium between the suspicious air of aprivate examination, and the indelicacy, as it was styled, of anexamination exposed to the remark of every casual spectator. 

I can conceive of no shock greater than that I received from the sightof Mr. Falkland. His appearance on the last occasion on which we methad been haggard, ghost-like, and wild, energy in his gestures, andfrenzy in his aspect. It was now the appearance of a corpse. He wasbrought in in a chair, unable to stand, fatigued and almost destroyed bythe journey he had just taken. His visage was colourless; his limbsdestitute of motion, almost of life. His head reclined upon his bosom, except that now and then he lifted it up, and opened his eyes with alanguid glance; immediately after which he sunk back into his formerapparent insensibility. He seemed not to have three hours to live. Hehad kept his chamber for several weeks; but the summons of themagistrate had been delivered to him at his bed-side, his ordersrespecting letters and written papers being so peremptory that no onedared to disobey them. Upon reading the paper he was seized with a verydangerous fit; but, as soon as he recovered, he insisted upon beingconveyed, with all practicable expedition, to the place of appointment. Falkland, in the most helpless state, was still Falkland, firm incommand, and capable to extort obedience from every one that approachedhim. 

What a sight was this to me! Till the moment that Falkland was presentedto my view, my breast was steeled to pity. I thought that I had coollyentered into the reason of the case (passion, in a state of solemn andomnipotent vehemence, always appears to be coolness to him in whom itdomineers), and that I had determined impartially and justly. I believedthat, if Mr. Falkland were permitted to persist in his schemes, we mustboth of us be completely wretched. I believed that it was in my power, by the resolution I had formed, to throw my share of this wretchednessfrom me, and that his could scarcely be increased. It appeared thereforeto my mind, to be a mere piece of equity and justice, such as animpartial spectator would desire, that one person should be miserable inpreference to two; that one person rather than two should beincapacitated from acting his part, and contributing his share to thegeneral welfare. I thought that in this business I had risen superior topersonal considerations, and judged with a total neglect of thesuggestions of self-regard. It is true, Mr. Falkland was mortal, but, notwithstanding his apparent decay, he might live long. Ought I tosubmit to waste the best years of my life in my present wretchedsituation? He had declared that his reputation should be for everinviolate; this was his ruling passion, the thought that worked his soulto madness. He would probably therefore leave a legacy of persecution tobe received by me from the hands of Gines, or some other villain equallyatrocious, when he should himself be no more. Now or never was the timefor me to redeem my future life from endless woe. 

But all these fine-spun reasonings vanished before the object that wasnow presented to me. "Shall I trample upon a man thus dreadfullyreduced? Shall I point my animosity against one, whom the system ofnature has brought down to the grave? Shall I poison, with sounds themost intolerable to his ears, the last moments of a man like Falkland?It is impossible. There must have been some dreadful mistake in thetrain of argument that persuaded me to be the author of this hatefulscene. There must have been a better and more magnanimous remedy to theevils under which I groaned. "

It was too late: the mistake I had committed was now gone past all powerof recall. Here was Falkland, solemnly brought before a magistrate toanswer to a charge of murder. Here I stood, having already declaredmyself the author of the charge, gravely and sacredly pledged to supportit. This was my situation; and, thus situated, I was called uponimmediately to act. My whole frame shook. I would eagerly have consentedthat that moment should have been the last of my existence. I howeverbelieved, that the conduct now most indispensably incumbent on me was tolay the emotions of my soul naked before my hearers. I looked first atMr. Falkland, and then at the magistrate and attendants, and then at Mr. Falkland again. My voice was suffocated with agony. I began:--

"Why cannot I recall the last four days of my life? How was it possiblefor me to be so eager, so obstinate, in a purpose so diabolical? Oh, that I had listened to the expostulations of the magistrate that hearsme, or submitted to the well-meant despotism of his authority! HithertoI have been only miserable; henceforth I shall account myself base!Hitherto, though hardly treated by mankind, I stood acquitted at the barof my own conscience. I had not filled up the measure of mywretchedness!

"Would to God it were possible for me to retire from this scene withoututtering another word! I would brave the consequences--I would submit toany imputation of cowardice, falsehood, and profligacy, rather than addto the weight of misfortune with which Mr. Falkland is overwhelmed. Butthe situation, and the demands of Mr. Falkland himself, forbid me. He, in compassion for whose fallen state I would willingly forget everyinterest of my own, would compel me to accuse, that he might enter uponhis justification. I will confess every sentiment of my heart. 

"No penitence, no anguish, can expiate the folly and the cruelty of thislast act I have perpetrated. But Mr. Falkland well knows--I affirm it inhis presence--how unwillingly I have proceeded to this extremity. Ihave reverenced him; he was worthy of reverence: I have loved him; hewas endowed with qualities that partook of divine. 

"From the first moment I saw him, I conceived the most ardentadmiration. He condescended to encourage me; I attached myself to himwith the fulness of my affection. He was unhappy; I exerted myself withyouthful curiosity to discover the secret of his woe. This was thebeginning of misfortune. 

"What shall I say?--He was indeed the murderer of Tyrrel; he sufferedthe Hawkinses to be executed, knowing that they were innocent, and thathe alone was guilty. After successive surmises, after variousindiscretions on my part, and indications on his, he at length confidedto me at full the fatal tale!

"Mr. Falkland! I most solemnly conjure you to recollect yourself! Did Iever prove myself unworthy of your confidence? The secret was a mostpainful burthen to me; it was the extremest folly that led meunthinkingly to gain possession of it; but I would have died a thousanddeaths rather than betray it. It was the jealousy of your own thoughts, and the weight that hung upon your mind, that led you to watch mymotions, and to conceive alarm from every particle of my conduct. 

"You began in confidence; why did you not continue in confidence? Theevil that resulted from my original imprudence would then have beencomparatively little. You threatened me: did I then betray you? A wordfrom my lips at that time would have freed me from your threats forever. I bore them for a considerable period, and at last quitted yourservice, and threw myself a fugitive upon the world, in silence. Why didyou not suffer me to depart? You brought me back by stratagem andviolence, and wantonly accused me of an enormous felony! Did I thenmention a syllable of the murder, the secret of which was in mypossession?

"Where is the man that has suffered more from the injustice of societythan I have done? I was accused of a villainy that my heart abhorred. Iwas sent to jail. I will not enumerate the horrors of my prison, thelightest of which would make the heart of humanity shudder. I lookedforward to the gallows! Young, ambitious, fond of life, innocent as thechild unborn, I looked forward to the gallows! I believed that one wordof resolute accusation against my patron would deliver me; yet I wassilent, I armed myself with patience, uncertain whether it were betterto accuse or to die. Did this show me a man unworthy to be trusted?

"I determined to break out of prison. With infinite difficulty, andrepeated miscarriages, I at length effected my purpose. Instantly aproclamation, with a hundred guineas reward, was issued for apprehendingme. I was obliged to take shelter among the refuse of mankind, in themidst of a gang of thieves. I encountered the most imminent peril of mylife when I entered this retreat, and when I quitted it. Immediatelyafter, I travelled almost the whole length of the kingdom, in povertyand distress, in hourly danger of being retaken and manacled like afelon. I would have fled my country; I was prevented. I had recourse tovarious disguises; I was innocent, and yet was compelled to as many artsand subterfuges as could have been entailed on the worst of villains. InLondon I was as much harassed and as repeatedly alarmed as I had been inmy flight through the country. Did all these persecutions persuade me toput an end to my silence? No: I suffered them with patience andsubmission; I did not make one attempt to retort them upon their author. 

"I fell at last into the hands of the miscreants that are nourished withhuman blood. In this terrible situation I, for the first time, attempted, by turning informer, to throw the weight from myself. Happilyfor me, the London magistrate listened to my tale with insolentcontempt. 

"I soon, and long, repented of my rashness, and rejoiced in mymiscarriage. 

"I acknowledge that, in various ways, Mr. Falkland showed humanitytowards me during this period. He would have prevented my going toprison at first; he contributed towards my subsistence during mydetention; he had no share in the pursuit that had been set on footagainst me; he at length procured my discharge, when brought forward fortrial. But a great part of his forbearance was unknown to me; I supposedhim to be my unrelenting pursuer. I could not forget that, whoeverheaped calamities on me in the sequel, they all originated in his forgedaccusation. 

"The prosecution against me for felony was now at an end. Why were notmy sufferings permitted to terminate then, and I allowed to hide myweary head in some obscure yet tranquil retreat? Had I not sufficientlyproved my constancy and fidelity? Would not a compromise in thissituation have been most wise and most secure? But the restless andjealous anxiety of Mr. Falkland would not permit him to repose the leastatom of confidence. The only compromise that he proposed was that, withmy own hand, I should sign myself a villain. I refused this proposal, and have ever since been driven from place to place, deprived of peace, of honest fame, even of bread. For a long time I persisted in theresolution that no emergency should convert me into the assailant. In anevil hour I at last listened to my resentment and impatience, and thehateful mistake into which I fell has produced the present scene. 

"I now see that mistake in all its enormity. I am sure that if I hadopened my heart to Mr. Falkland, if I had told to him privately the talethat I have now been telling, he could not have resisted my reasonabledemand. After all his precautions, he must ultimately have depended uponmy forbearance. Could he be sure that, if I were at last worked up todisclose every thing I knew, and to enforce it with all the energy Icould exert, I should obtain no credit? If he must in every case be atmy mercy, in which mode ought he to have sought his safety, inconciliation, or in inexorable cruelty?

"Mr. Falkland is of a noble nature. Yes; in spite of the catastrophe ofTyrrel, of the miserable end of the Hawkinses, and of all that I havemyself suffered, I affirm that he has qualities of the most admirablekind. It is therefore impossible that he could have resisted a frank andfervent expostulation, the frankness and the fervour in which the wholesoul is poured out. I despaired, while it was yet time to have made thejust experiment; but my despair was criminal, was treason against thesovereignty of truth. 

"I have told a plain and unadulterated tale. I came hither to curse, butI remain to bless. I came to accuse, but am compelled to applaud. Iproclaim to all the world, that Mr. Falkland is a man worthy ofaffection and kindness, and that I am myself the basest and most odiousof mankind! Never will I forgive myself the iniquity of this day. Thememory will always haunt me, and embitter every hour of my existence. In thus acting I have been a murderer--a cool, deliberate, unfeelingmurderer. --I have said what my accursed precipitation has obliged me tosay. Do with me as you please! I ask no favour. Death would be akindness, compared to what I feel!"

Such were the accents dictated by my remorse. I poured them out withuncontrollable impetuosity; for my heart was pierced, and I wascompelled to give vent to its anguish. Every one that heard me, waspetrified with astonishment. Every one that heard me, was melted intotears. They could not resist the ardour with which I praised the greatqualities of Falkland; they manifested their sympathy in the tokens ofmy penitence. 

How shall I describe the feelings of this unfortunate man? Before Ibegan, he seemed sunk and debilitated, incapable of any strenuousimpression. When I mentioned the murder, I could perceive in him aninvoluntary shuddering, though it was counteracted partly by thefeebleness of his frame, and partly by the energy of his mind. This wasan allegation he expected, and he had endeavoured to prepare himself forit. But there was much of what I said, of which he had had no previousconception. When I expressed the anguish of my mind, he seemed at firststartled and alarmed, lest this should be a new expedient to gain creditto my tale. His indignation against me was great for having retained allmy resentment towards him, thus, as it might be, to the last hour of hisexistence. It was increased when he discovered me, as he supposed, usinga pretence of liberality and sentiment to give new edge to my hostility. But as I went on he could no longer resist. He saw my sincerity; he waspenetrated with my grief and compunction. He rose from his seat, supported by the attendants, and--to my infinite astonishment--threwhimself into my arms!

"Williams, " said he, "you have conquered! I see too late the greatnessand elevation of your mind. I confess that it is to my fault and notyours, that it is to the excess of jealousy that was ever burning in mybosom, that I owe my ruin. I could have resisted any plan of maliciousaccusation you might have brought against me. But I see that the artlessand manly story you have told, has carried conviction to every hearer. All my prospects are concluded. All that I most ardently desired, is forever frustrated. I have spent a life of the basest cruelty, to cover oneact of momentary vice, and to protect myself against the prejudices ofmy species. I stand now completely detected. My name will be consecratedto infamy, while your heroism, your patience, and your virtues will befor ever admired. You have inflicted on me the most fatal of allmischiefs; but I bless the hand that wounds me. And now, "--turning tothe magistrate--"and now, do with me as you please. I am prepared tosuffer all the vengeance of the law. You cannot inflict on me more thanI deserve. You cannot hate me, more than I hate myself. I am the mostexecrable of all villains. I have for many years (I know not how long)dragged on a miserable existence in insupportable pain. I am at last, inrecompense for all my labours and my crimes, dismissed from it with thedisappointment of my only remaining hope, the destruction of that forthe sake of which alone I consented to exist. It was worthy of such alife, that it should continue just long enough to witness this finaloverthrow. If however you wish to punish me, you must be speedy in yourjustice; for, as reputation was the blood that warmed my heart, so Ifeel that death and infamy must seize me together. "

I record the praises bestowed on me by Falkland, not because I deservedthem, but because they serve to aggravate the baseness of my cruelty. Hesurvived this dreadful scene but three days. I have been his murderer. It was fit that he should praise my patience, who has fallen a victim, life and fame, to my precipitation! It would have been merciful incomparison, if I had planted a dagger in his heart. He would havethanked me for my kindness. But, atrocious, execrable wretch that I havebeen! I wantonly inflicted on him an anguish a thousand times worse thandeath. Meanwhile I endure the penalty of my crime. His figure is ever inimagination before me. Waking or sleeping, I still behold him. He seemsmildly to expostulate with me for my unfeeling behaviour. I live thedevoted victim of conscious reproach. Alas! I am the same Caleb Williamsthat, so short a time ago, boasted that, however great were thecalamities I endured, I was still innocent. 

Such has been the result of a project I formed, for delivering myselffrom the evil that had so long attended me. I thought that, if Falklandwere dead, I should return once again to all that makes life worthpossessing. I thought that, if the guilt of Falkland were established, fortune and the world would smile upon my efforts. Both these events areaccomplished; and it is now only that I am truly miserable. 

Why should my reflections perpetually centre upon myself?--self, anoverweening regard to which has been the source of my errors! Falkland, I will think only of thee, and from that thought will draw ever-freshnourishment for my sorrows! One generous, one disinterested tear I willconsecrate to thy ashes! A nobler spirit lived not among the sons ofmen. Thy intellectual powers were truly sublime, and thy bosom burnedwith a god-like ambition. But of what use are talents and sentiments inthe corrupt wilderness of human society? It is a rank and rotten soil, from which every finer shrub draws poison as it grows. All that, in ahappier field and a purer air, would expand into virtue and germinateinto usefulness, is thus concerted into henbane and deadly nightshade. 

Falkland! thou enteredst upon thy career with the purest and mostlaudable intentions. But thou imbibedst the poison of chivalry with thyearliest youth; and the base and low-minded envy that met thee on thyreturn to thy native seats, operated with this poison to hurry thee intomadness. Soon, too soon, by this fatal coincidence, were the bloominghopes of thy youth blasted for ever. From that moment thou onlycontinuedst to live to the phantom of departed honour. From that momentthy benevolence was, in a great part, turned into rankling jealousy andinexorable precaution. Year after year didst thou spend in thismiserable project of imposture; and only at last continuedst to live, long enough to see, by my misjudging and abhorred intervention, thyclosing hope disappointed, and thy death accompanied with the foulestdisgrace!

I began these memoirs with the idea of vindicating my character. I havenow no character that I wish to vindicate: but I will finish them thatthy story may be fully understood; and that, if those errors of thy lifebe known which thou so ardently desiredst to conceal, the world may atleast not hear and repeat a half-told and mangled tale. 

THE END.