* And here, Belford, lest thou, through inattention, should be surprised
at my assurance, let me remind thee (and that, thus, by way of marginal
observation, that I may not break in upon my narrative) that this my
intrepidity concerted (as I have from time to time acquainted thee) in
apprehension of such an event as has fallen out. For had not the dear
creature already passed for my wife before no less than four worthy
gentlemen of family and fortune?** and before Mrs. Sinclair, and her
household, and Miss Partington? And had she not agreed to her uncle's
expedient, that she should pass for such, from the time of Mr. Hickman's
application to that uncle;*** and that the worthy Capt. Tomlinson should
be allowed to propagate that belief: as he had actually reported to two
families (they possibly to more); purposely that it might come to the
ears of James Harlowe; and serve for a foundation for uncle John to build
his reconciliation-scheme upon? And canst thou think that nothing was
meant by all this contrivance? and that I am not still further prepared
to support my story?
** See Vol. IV. Letter IV. towards the conclusion.
*** Ibid. Letter XVI.
Ibid.
Indeed, I little thought, at the time that I formed these precautionary
schemes, that she would ever have been able, if willing, to get out of my
hands. All that I hoped I should have occasion to have recourse to them
for, was only, in case I should have the courage to make the grand
attempt, and should succeed in it, to bring the dear creature [and this
out of tenderness to her, for what attention did I ever yet pay to the
grief, the execrations, the tears of a woman I had triumphed over?] to
bear me in her sight: to expostulate with me, to be pacified by my pleas,
and by my own future hopes, founded upon the reconciliatory-project, upon
my reiterated vows, and upon the Captain's assurances. Since in that
case, to forgive me, to have gone on with me, for a week, would have been
to forgive me, to have gone on with me, for ever. And that, had my
eligible life of honour taken place, her trials would all have been then
over: and she would have known nothing but gratitude, love, and joy, to
the end of one of our lives. For never would I, never could I, have
abandoned such an admirable creature as this. Thou knowest I never was a
sordid villain to any of her inferiors--Her inferiors, I may say--For who
is not her inferior?
You speak like a gentleman; you look like a gentleman, said Miss
Rawlins--but, Sir, this is a strange case; the lady sees to dread the
sight of you.
No wonder, Madam; taking her a little on one side, nearer to Mrs. Moore.
I have three times already forgiven the dear creature--but this is
jealousy!--There is a spice of that in it--and of phrensy too [whispered
I, that it might have the face of a secret, and of consequence the more
engage their attention]--but our story is too long.
I then made a motion to go to my beloved. But they desired that I would
walk into the next room; and they would endeavour to prevail upon her to
lie down.
I begged that they would not suffer her to talk; for that she was
accustomed to fits, and, when in this way, would talk of any thing that
came uppermost: and the more she was suffered to run on, the worse she
was; and if not kept quiet, would fall into ravings: which might possibly
hold her a week.
They promised to keep her quiet; and I withdrew into the next room;
ordering every one down but Mrs. Moore and Miss Rawlins.
She was full of exclamations! Unhappy creature! miserable! ruined! and
undone! she called herself; wrung her hands, and begged they would assist
her to escape from the terrible evils she should otherwise be made to
suffer.
They preached patience and quietness to her; and would have had her to
lie down: but she refused; sinking, however, into an easy chair; for she
trembled so she could not stand.
By this time, I hoped, that she was enough recovered to bear a presence
that it behoved me to make her bear; and fearing she would throw out
something in her exclamations, that would still more disconcert me, I
went into the room again.
O there he is! said she, and threw her apron over her face--I cannot see
him!--I cannot look upon him!--Begone, begone! touch me not!--
For I took her struggling hand, beseeching her to be pacified; and
assuring her, that I would make all up with her upon her own terms and
wishes.
Base man! said the violent lady, I have no wishes, but never to behold
you more! Why must I be thus pursued and haunted? Have you not made me
miserable enough already?--Despoiled of all succour and help, and of
every friend, I am contented to be poor, low, and miserable, so I may
live free from your persecutions.
Miss Rawlins stared at me [a confident slut this Miss Rawlins, thought
I]: so did Mrs. Moore. I told you so! whispering said I, turning to the
women; shaking my head with a face of great concern and pity; and then to
my charmer, My dear creature, how you rave! You will not easily recover
from the effects of this violence. Have patience, my love. Be pacified;
and we will coolly talk this matter over: for you expose yourself, as
well as me: these ladies will certainly think you have fallen among
robbers, and that I am the chief of them.
So you are! so you are! stamping, her face still covered [she thought of
Wednesday night, no doubt]; and, sighing as if her heart were breaking,
she put her hand to her forehead--I shall be quite distracted!
I will not, my dearest love, uncover your face. You shall not look upon
me, since I am so odious to you. But this is a violence I never thought
you capable of.
And I would have pressed her hand, as I held it, with my lips; but she
drew it from me with indignation.
Unhand me, Sir, said she. I will not be touched by you. Leave me to my
fate. What right, what title, have you to persecute me thus?
What right, what title, my dear!--But this is not a time--I have a letter
from Captain Tomlinson--here it is--offering it to her--
I will receive nothing from your hands--tell me not of Captain
Tomlinson--tell me not of any body--you have no right to invade me thus--
once more leave me to my fate--have you not made me miserable enough?
I touched a delicate string, on purpose to set her in such a passion
before the women, as might confirm the intimation I had given of a
phrensical disorder.
What a turn is here!--Lately so happy--nothing wanting but a
reconciliation between you and your friends!--That reconciliation in such
a happy train--shall so slight, so accidental an occasion be suffered to
overturn all our happiness?
She started up with a trembling impatience, her apron falling from her
indignant face--now, said she, that thou darest to call the occasion
slight and accidental, and that I am happily out of thy vile hands, and
out of a house I have reason to believe as vile, traitor and wretch as
thou art, I will venture to cast an eye upon thee--and Oh! that it were
in my power, in mercy to my sex, to look thee first into shame and
remorse, and then into death!
This violent tragedy-speech, and the high manner in which she uttered it,
had its desired effect. I looked upon the women, and upon her by turns,
with a pitying eye; and they shook their wise heads, and besought me to
retire, and her to lie down to compose herself.
This hurricane, like other hurricanes, was presently allayed by a shower.
She threw herself once more into her armed chair, and begged pardon of
the women for her passionate excess; but not of me: yet I was in hopes,
that when compliments were stirring, I should have come in for a share.
Indeed, Ladies, said I, [with assurance enough, thou'lt say,] this
violence is not natural to my beloved's temper--misapprehension--
Misapprehension, wretch!--And want I excuses from thee!
By what a scorn was every lovely feature agitated!
Then turning her face from me, I have not patience, O thou guileful
betrayer, to look upon thee! Begone! Begone! With a face so
unblushing, how darest thou appear in my presence?