But we must step out, Nephew: your lady will faint. Maid, a glass of
hartshorn and water!—My dear you must step out—You will faint, child—We
must cut your laces.—[I believe my complexion was all manner of colours
by turns]—Indeed, you must step out, my dear.
He knew, said I, I should be well, the moment the coach drove from the
door. I should not alight. By his soul, I should not.
Lord, Lord, Nephew, Lord, Lord, Cousin, both women in a breath, what
ado you make about nothing! You persuade your lady to be afraid of
alighting.—See you not that she is just fainting?
Indeed, Madam, said the vile seducer, my dearest love must not be moved
in this point against her will. I beg it may not be insisted upon.
Fiddle-faddle, foolish man—What a pother is here! I guess how it is:
you are ashamed to let us see what sort of people you carried your lady
among—but do you go out, and speak to your friend, and take your
letters.
He stept out; but shut the coach-door after him, to oblige me.
The coach may go on, Madam, said I.
The coach shall go on, my dear life, said he.—But he gave not, nor
intended to give, orders that it should.
Let the coach go on! said I—Mr. Lovelace may come after us.
Indeed, my dear, you are ill!—Indeed you must alight—alight but for one
quarter of an hour.—Alight but to give orders yourself about your
things. Whom can you be afraid of in my company, and my niece’s; these
people must have behaved shockingly to you! Please the Lord, I’ll
inquire into it!—I’ll see what sort of people they are!
Immediately came the old creature to the door. A thousand pardons, dear
Madam, stepping to the coach-side, if we have any way offended you—Be
pleased, Ladies, [to the other two] to alight.
Well, my dear, whispered the Lady Betty, I now find that an hideous
description of a person we never saw is an advantage to them. I thought
the woman was a monster—but, really, she seems tolerable.
I was afraid I should have fallen into fits: but still refused to go
out—Man!—Man!—Man!—cried I, gaspingly, my head out of the coach and in,
by turns, half a dozen times running, drive on!—Let us go!
My heart misgave me beyond the power of my own accounting for it; for
still I did not suspect these women. But the antipathy I had taken to
the vile house, and to find myself so near it, when I expected no such
matter, with the sight of the old creature, all together made me behave
like a distracted person.
The hartshorn and water was brought. The pretended Lady Betty made me
drink it. Heaven knows if there was any thing else in it!
Besides, said she, whisperingly, I must see what sort of creatures the
nieces are. Want of delicacy cannot be hid from me. You could not
surely, my dear, have this aversion to re-enter a house, for a few
minutes, in our company, in which you lodged and boarded several weeks,
unless these women could be so presumptuously vile, as my nephew ought
not to know.
Out stept the pretended lady; the servant, at her command, having
opened the door.
Dearest Madam, said the other to me, let me follow you, [for I was next
the door.] Fear nothing: I will not stir from your presence.
Come, my dear, said the pretended lady, give me your hand; holding out
her’s. Oblige me this once.
I will bless your footsteps, said the old creature, if once more you
honour my house with your presence.
A crowd by this time was gathered about us; but I was too much affected
to mind that.
Again the pretended Miss Montague urged me; standing up as ready to go
out if I would give her room.—Lord, my dear, said she, who can bear
this crowd?—What will people think?
The pretended Lady again pressed me, with both her hands held out—Only,
my dear, to give orders about your things.
And thus pressed, and gazed at, (for then I looked about me,) the women
so richly dressed, people whispering; in an evil moment, out stepped I,
trembling, forced to lean with both my hands (frighted too much for
ceremony) on the pretended Lady Betty’s arm—Oh! that I had dropped down
dead upon the guilty threshold!
We shall stay but a few minutes, my dear!—but a few minutes! said the
same specious jilt—out of breath with her joy, as I have since thought,
that they had thus triumphed over the unhappy victim!
Come, Mrs. Sinclair, I think your name is, show us the way——following
her, and leading me. I am very thirsty. You have frighted me, my dear,
with your strange fears. I must have tea made, if it can be done in a
moment. We have farther to go, Mrs. Sinclair, and must return to
Hampstead this night.
It shall be ready in a moment, cried the wretch. We have water boiling.
Hasten, then—Come, my dear, to me, as she led me through the passage to
the fatal inner house—lean upon me—how you tremble!—how you falter in
your steps!—Dearest niece Lovelace, [the old wretch being in hearing,]
why these hurries upon your spirits?—We’ll be gone in a minute.
And thus she led the poor sacrifice into the old wretch’s
too-well-known parlour.
Never was any body so gentle, so meek, so low voiced, as the odious
woman; drawling out, in a puling accent, all the obliging things she
could say: awed, I then thought, by the conscious dignity of a woman of
quality; glittering with jewels.
The called-for tea was ready presently.
There was no Mr. Belton, I believe: for the wretch went not to any
body, unless it were while we were parlying in the coach. No such
person however, appeared at the tea-table.
I was made to drink two dishes, with milk, complaisantly urged by the
pretended ladies helping me each to one. I was stupid to their hands;
and, when I took the tea, almost choked with vapours; and could hardly
swallow.
I thought, transiently thought, that the tea, the last dish
particularly, had an odd taste. They, on my palating it, observed, that
the milk was London-milk; far short in goodness of what they were
accustomed to from their own dairies.
I have no doubt that my two dishes, and perhaps my hartshorn, were
prepared for me; in which case it was more proper for their purpose,
that they should help me, than that I should help myself. Ill before, I
found myself still more and more disordered in my head; a heavy torpid
pain increasing fast upon me. But I imputed it to my terror.
Nevertheless, at the pretended Lady’s motion, I went up stairs,
attended by Dorcas; who affected to weep for joy, that she once more
saw my blessed face; that was the vile creature’s word: and immediately
I set about taking out some of my clothes, ordering what should be put
up, and what sent after me.
While I was thus employed, up came the pretended Lady Betty, in a
hurrying way——My dear, you won’t be long before you are ready. My
nephew is very busy in writing answers to his letters: so, I’ll just
whip away, and change my dress, and call upon you in an instant.
O Madam!—I am ready! I am now ready!—You must not leave me here. And
down I sunk, affrighted, into a chair.
This instant, this instant, I will return—before you can be
ready—before you can have packed up your things—we would not be
late—the robbers we have heard of may be out—don’t let us be late.
And away she hurried before I could say another word. Her pretended
niece went with her, without taking notice to me of her going.
I had no suspicion yet that these women were not indeed the ladies they
personated; and I blamed myself for my weak fears.—It cannot be,
thought I, that such ladies will abet treachery against a poor creature
they are so fond of. They must undoubtedly be the persons they appear
to be—what folly to doubt it! The air, the dress, the dignity of women
of quality. How unworthy of them, and of my charity, concluded I, is
this ungenerous shadow of suspicion!
So, recovering my stupefied spirits, as well as they could be
recovered, (for I was heavier and heavier! and wondered to Dorcas what
ailed me, rubbing my eyes, and taking some of her snuff, pinch after
pinch, to very little purpose,) I pursued my employment: but when that
was over, all packed up that I designed to be packed up; and I had
nothing to do but to think; and found them tarry so long; I thought I
should have gone distracted. I shut myself into the chamber that had
been mine; I kneeled, I prayed; yet knew not what I prayed for: then
ran out again: it was almost dark night, I said: where, where, where
was Mr. Lovelace?
He came to me, taking no notice at first of my consternation and
wildness, [what they had given me made me incoherent and wild:] All
goes well, said he, my dear!—A line from Capt. Tomlinson!
All indeed did go well for the villanous project of the most cruel and
most villanous of men!
I demanded his aunt!—I demanded his cousin!—The evening, I said, was
closing!—My head was very, very bad, I remember I said—and it grew
worse and worse.—
Terror, however, as yet kept up my spirits; and I insisted upon his
going himself to hasten them.
He called his servant. He raved at the sex for their delay: ’twas well
that business of consequence seldom depended upon such parading,
unpunctual triflers!
His servant came.
He ordered him to fly to his cousin Leeson’s, and to let Lady Betty and
his cousin know how uneasy we both were at their delay: adding, of his
own accord, desire them, if they don’t come instantly, to send their
coach, and we will go without them. Tell them I wonder they’ll serve me
so!
I thought this was considerately and fairly put. But now, indifferent
as my head was, I had a little time to consider the man and his
behaviour. He terrified me with his looks, and with his violent
emotions, as he gazed upon me. Evident joy-suppressed emotions, as I
have since recollected. His sentences short, and pronounced as if his
breath were touched. Never saw I his abominable eyes look as then they
looked—Triumph in them!—fierce and wild; and more disagreeable than the
women’s at the vile house appeared to me when I first saw them: and at
times, such a leering, mischief-boding cast!—I would have given the
world to have been an hundred miles from him. Yet his behaviour was
decent—a decency, however, that I might have seen to be struggled
for—for he snatched my hand two or three times, with a vehemence in his
grasp that hurt me; speaking words of tenderness through his shut
teeth, as it seemed; and let it go with a beggar-voiced humbled accent,
like the vile woman’s just before; half-inward; yet his words and
manner carrying the appearance of strong and almost convulsed
passion!—O my dear! what mischief was he not then meditating!
I complained once or twice of thirst. My mouth seemed parched. At the
time, I supposed that it was my terror (gasping often as I did for
breath) that parched up the roof of my mouth. I called for water: some
table-beer was brought me: beer, I suppose, was a better vehicle for
their potions. I told the maid, that she knew I seldom tasted malt
liquor: yet, suspecting nothing of this nature, being extremely
thirsty, I drank it, as what came next: and instantly, as it were,
found myself much worse than before: as if inebriated, I should fancy:
I know not how.
His servant was gone twice as long as he needed: and, just before his
return, came one of the pretended Lady Betty’s with a letter for Mr.
Lovelace.
He sent it up to me. I read it: and then it was that I thought myself a
lost creature; it being to put off her going to Hampstead that night,
on account of violent fits which Miss Montague was pretended to be
seized with; for then immediately came into my head his vile attempt
upon me in this house; the revenge that my flight might too probably
inspire him with on that occasion, and because of the difficulty I made
to forgive him, and to be reconciled to him; his very looks wild and
dreadful to me; and the women of the house such as I had more reason
than ever, even from the pretended Lady Betty’s hint, to be afraid of:
all these crowding together in my apprehensive mind, I fell into a kind
of phrensy.
I have no remembrance how I was for this time it lasted: but I know
that, in my first agitations, I pulled off my head-dress, and tore my
ruffles in twenty tatters, and ran to find him out.
When a little recovered, I insisted upon the hint he had given me of
their coach. But the messenger, he said, had told him, that it was sent
to fetch a physician, lest his chariot should be put up, or not ready.