HE BEARS HIS FATE LIKE A PHILOSOPHER; AND CONTRACTS ACQUAINTANCE WITH A
VERY REMARKABLE PERSONAGE.
This was a proper subject for our hero to moralise upon; and accordingly
it did not pass without his remarks; he found himself fairly foiled at
his own weapons, reduced to indigence in a foreign land, and, what he
chiefly regretted, robbed of all those gay expectations he had indulged
from his own supposed excellence in the wiles of fraud; for, upon a
little recollection, he plainly perceived he had fallen a sacrifice to
the confederacy he had refused to join; and did not at all doubt that the
dice were loaded for his destruction. But, instead of beating his head
against the wall, tearing his hair, imprecating vain curses upon himself,
or betraying other frantic symptoms of despair, he resolved to
accommodate himself to his fate, and profit by the lesson he had so
dearly bought.
With this intention, he immediately dismissed his valet, quitted his
lodgings, retired to an obscure street on the other side of the river,
and, covering one eye with a large patch of black silk, presented himself
in quality of a musician to the director of the opera, who, upon hearing
a trial of his skill, received him into the band without further
question. While he continued in this situation, he not only improved his
taste and execution in music, but likewise found frequent opportunities
to extend his knowledge of mankind; for, besides the employment he
exercised in public, he was often concerned in private concerts that were
given in the hotels of noblemen; by which means he became more and more
acquainted with the persons, manners, and characters of high life, which
he contemplated with the most industrious attention, as a spectator, who,
being altogether unconcerned in the performance, is at more liberty to
observe and enjoy the particulars of the entertainment.
It was in one of those assemblies he had the pleasure of seeing his
friend Sir Stentor, dressed in the most fashionable manner, and behaving
with all the overstrained politesse of a native Frenchman. He was
accompanied by his brother knight and the abbe; and this triumvirate,
even in Fathom's hearing, gave a most ludicrous detail of the finesse
they had practised upon the Polish Count, to their entertainer, who was
ambassador from a certain court, and made himself extremely merry with
the particulars of the relation. Indeed, they made shift to describe
some of the circumstances in such a ridiculous light, that our adventurer
himself, smarting as he was with the disgrace, could not help laughing in
secret at the account. He afterwards made it his business to inquire
into the characters of the two British knights, and understood they were
notorious sharpers, who had come abroad for the good of their country,
and now hunted in couple among a French pack, that dispersed themselves
through the public ordinaries, walks, and spectacles, in order to make a
prey of incautious strangers.
The pride of Ferdinand was piqued at this information; and he was even
animated with the desire of making reprisals upon this fraternity, from
which he ardently longed to retrieve his honour and effects. But the
issue of his last adventure had reinforced his caution; and, for the
present, he found means to suppress the dictates of his avarice and
ambition; resolving to employ his whole penetration in reconnoitring the
ground, before he should venture to take the field again. He therefore
continued to act the part of a one-eyed fiddler, under the name of
Fadini, and lived with incredible frugality, that he might save a purse
for his future operations. In this manner had he proceeded for the space
of ten months, during which he acquired a competent knowledge of the city
of Paris, when his curiosity was attracted by certain peculiarities in
the appearance of a man who lived in one of the upper apartments
belonging to the house in which he himself had fixed his habitation.
This was a tall, thin, meagre figure, with a long black beard, an
aquiline nose, a brown complexion, and a most piercing vivacity in his
eyes. He seemed to be about the age of fifty, wore the Persian habit,
and there was a remarkable severity in his aspect and demeanour. He and
our adventurer had been fellow-lodgers for some time, and, according to
the laudable custom in these days, had hitherto remained as much
estranged to one another, as if they had lived on opposite sides of the
globe; but of late the Persian seemed to regard our hero with particular
attention; when they chanced to meet on the staircase, or elsewhere, he
bowed to Ferdinand with great solemnity, and complimented him with the
pas. He even proceeded, in the course of this communication, to open his
mouth, and salute him with a good-morrow, and sometimes made the common
remarks upon the weather. Fathom, who was naturally complaisant, did not
discourage these advances. On the contrary, he behaved to him with marks
of particular respect, and one day desired the favour of his company to
breakfast.
This invitation the stranger declined with due acknowledgment, on
pretence of being out of order; and, in the meantime, our adventurer
bethought himself of questioning the landlord concerning his outlandish
guest. His curiosity was rather inflamed than satisfied with the
information he could obtain from this quarter; for all he learned was,
that the Persian went by the name of Ali Beker, and that he had lived in
the house for the space of four months, in a most solitary and
parsimonious manner, without being visited by one living soul; that, for
some time after his arrival, he had been often heard to groan dismally in
the night, and even to exclaim in an unknown language, as if he had
laboured under some grievous affliction; and though the first transports
of his grief had subsided, it was easy to perceive he still indulged a
deep-rooted melancholy; for the tears were frequently observed to trickle
down his beard. The commissaire of the quarter had at first ordered this
Oriental to be watched in his outgoings, according to the maxims of the
French police; but his life was found so regular and inoffensive, that
this precaution was soon set aside.
Any man of humane sentiments, from the knowledge of these particulars,
would have been prompted to offer his services to the forlorn stranger;
but as our hero was devoid of all these infirmities of human nature, it
was necessary that other motives should produce the same effect. His
curiosity, therefore, joined with the hopes of converting the confidence
of Ali to his own emolument, effectually impelled him towards his
acquaintance; and, in a little time, they began to relish the
conversation of each other. For, as the reader may have already
observed, Fathom possessed all the arts of insinuation, and had
discernment enough to perceive an air of dignity in the Persian, which
the humility of his circumstances could not conceal. He was, moreover, a
man of good understanding, not without a tincture of letters, perfectly
well bred, though in a ceremonious style, extremely moral in his
discourse, and scrupulously nice in his notions of honour.
Our hero conformed himself in all respects to the other's opinions, and
managed his discretion so as to pass upon him for a gentleman reduced by
misfortunes to the exercise of an employment which was altogether
unsuitable to his birth and quality. He made earnest and repeated
tenders of his good offices to the stranger, and pressed him to make use
of his purse with such cordial perseverance, that, at length, Ali's
reserve was overcome, and he condescended to borrow of him a small sum,
which in all probability, saved his life; for he had been driven to the
utmost extremity of want before he would accept of this assistance.
Fathom, having gradually stole into his good graces, began to take notice
of many piteous sighs that escaped him in the moments of their
intercourse, and seemed to denote an heart fraught with woe; and, on
pretence of administering consolation and counsel, begged leave to know
the cause of his distress, observing, that his mind would be disburdened
by such communication, and, perhaps, his grief alleviated by some means
which they might jointly concert and execute in his behalf.
Ali, thus solicited, would often shake his head, with marks of extreme
sorrow and despondence, and, while the tears gushed from his eyes,
declared that his distress was beyond the power of any remedy but death,
and that, by making our hero his confidant, he should only extend his
unhappiness to a friend, without feeling the least remission of his own
torture. Notwithstanding these repeated declarations, Ferdinand, who was
well enough acquainted with the mind of man to know that such importunity
is seldom or never disagreeable, redoubled his instances, together with
his expressions of sympathy and esteem, until the stranger was prevailed
upon to gratify his curiosity and benevolence. Having, therefore,
secured the chamber door one night, while all the rest of the family were
asleep, the unfortunate Ali disclosed himself in these words.