The last resource, and that upon which he least depended, was the advice
and assistance of his old friend the empiric, with whom he still
maintained a slight correspondence; and to whose house he steered his
course, in great perplexity and tribulation. That gentleman, instead of
consoling him with assurances of friendship and protection, faithfully
recapitulated all the instances of his indiscretion and misconduct, taxed
him with want of sincerity in the West India affair, as well as with want
of honesty in this last marriage, while his former wife was alive; and,
finally, reminded him of his notes, which he desired might be immediately
taken up, as he (the quack) had present occasion for a sum of money.
Ferdinand, seeing it would be impracticable to derive any succour from
this quarter, sneaked homewards, in order to hold a consultation with his
own thoughts; and the first object that presented itself to his eyes when
he entered his apartment, was a letter from the tradesman, with his
account inclosed, amounting to forty-five pounds, which the writer
desired might be paid without delay. Before he had time to peruse the
articles, he received a summons, in consequence of a bill of indictment
for bigamy, found against him in Hicks' Hall, by Sarah Muddy, widow; and,
while he was revolving measures to avert these storms, another billet
arrived from a certain attorney, giving him to understand, that he had
orders from Doctor Buffalo, the quack, to sue him for the payment of
several notes, unless he would take them up in three days from the date
of this letter.
Such a concurrence of sinister events made a deep impression upon the
mind of our adventurer. All his fortitude was insufficient to bear him
up against this torrent of misfortunes; his resources were all dried up,
his invention failed, and his reflection began to take a new turn. "To
what purpose," said he to himself, "have I deserted the paths of
integrity and truth, and exhausted a fruitful imagination, in contriving
schemes to betray my fellow-creatures, if, instead of acquiring a
splendid fortune, which was my aim, I have suffered such a series of
mortifications, and at last brought myself to the brink of inevitable
destruction? By a virtuous exertion of those talents I inherit from
nature and education, I might, long before this time, have rendered
myself independent, and, perhaps, conspicuous in life. I might have
grown up like a young oak, which, being firmly rooted in its kindred
soil, gradually raises up its lofty head, expands its leafy arms,
projects a noble shade, and towers the glory of the plain. I should have
paid the debt of gratitude to my benefactors, and made their hearts sing
with joy for the happy effects of their benevolence. I should have been
a bulwark to my friends, a shelter to my neighbours in distress. I
should have run the race of honour, seen my fame diffused like a
sweet-smelling odour, and felt the ineffable pleasure of doing good.
Whereas I am, after a vicissitude of disappointments, dangers, and
fatigues, reduced to misery and shame, aggravated by a conscience loaded
with treachery and guilt. I have abused the confidence and generosity of
my patron; I have defrauded his family, under the mask of sincerity and
attachment; I have taken the most cruel and base advantages of virtue in
distress; I have seduced unsuspecting innocence to ruin and despair; I
have violated the most sacred trust reposed in me by my friend and
benefactor; I have betrayed his love, torn his noble heart asunder, by
means of the most perfidious slander and false insinuations; and,
finally, brought to an untimely grave the fairest pattern of human beauty
and perfection. Shall the author of these crimes pass with impunity?
Shall he hope to prosper in the midst of such enormous guilt? It were an
imputation upon Providence to suppose it! Ah, no! I begin to feel myself
overtaken by the eternal justice of Heaven! I totter on the edge of
wretchedness and woe, without one friendly hand to save me from the
terrible abyss!"
These reflections, which, perhaps, the misery of his fellow-creatures
would never have inspired, had he himself remained without the verge of
misfortune, were now produced from the sensation of his own calamities;
and, for the first time, his cheeks were bedewed with the drops of
penitence and sorrow. "Contraries," saith Plato, "are productive of each
other." Reformation is oftentimes generated from unsuccessful vice; and
our adventurer was, at this juncture, very well disposed to turn over a
new leaf in consequence of those salutary suggestions; though he was far
from being cured beyond the possibility of a relapse. On the contrary,
all the faculties of his soul were so well adapted, and had been so long
habituated to deceit, that, in order to extricate himself from the evils
that environed him, he would not, in all probability, have scrupled to
practise it upon his own father, had a convenient opportunity occurred.
Be that as it may, he certainly, after a tedious and fruitless exercise
of his invention, resolved to effect a clandestine retreat from that
confederacy of enemies which he could not withstand, and once more join
his fortune to that of Renaldo, whom he proposed to serve, for the
future, with fidelity and affection, thereby endeavouring to atone for
the treachery of his former conduct. Thus determined, he packed up his
necessaries in a portmanteau, attempted to amuse his creditors with
promises of speedy payment, and, venturing to come forth in the dark,
took a place in the Canterbury stage-coach, after having converted his
superfluities into ready money. These steps were not taken with such
privacy as to elude the vigilance of his adversaries; for, although he
had been cautious enough to transport himself and his baggage to the inn
on Sunday evening, and never doubted that the vehicle, which set out at
four o'clock on Monday morning, would convey him out of the reach of his
creditors, before they could possibly obtain a writ for securing his
person, they had actually taken such precautions as frustrated all his
finesse; and the coach being stopped in the borough of Southwark, Doctor
Fathom was seized by virtue of a warrant obtained on a criminal
indictment, and was forthwith conducted to the prison of the King's
Bench; yet, not before he had, by his pathetic remonstrances, excited the
compassion, and even drawn tears from the eyes of his fellow-passengers.
He no sooner recollected himself from the shock which must have been
occasioned by this sinister incident, than he despatched a letter to his
brother-in-law, the counsellor, requesting an immediate conference, in
which he promised to make such a proposal as would save him all the
expense of a lawsuit and trial, and, at the same time, effectually answer
all the purposes of both. He was accordingly favoured with a visit from
the lawyer, to whom, after the most solemn protestations of his own
innocence, he declared, that, finding himself unable to wage war against
such powerful antagonists, he had resolved even to abandon his
indubitable right, and retire into another country, in order to screen
himself from persecution, and remove all cause of disquiet from the
prosecutrix, when he was, unfortunately, prevented by the warrant which
had been executed against him. He said he was still willing, for the
sake of his liberty, to sign a formal renunciation of his pretensions to
Mrs. Fathom and her fortune, provided the deeds could be executed, and
the warrant withdrawn, before he should be detained by his other
creditors; and, lastly, he conjured the barrister to spare himself the
guilt and the charge of suborning evidence for the destruction of an
unhappy man, whose misfortune was his only fault.
The lawyer felt the force of his expostulations; and though he would by
no means suppose him innocent of the charge of bigamy, yet, under the
pretext of humanity and commiseration, he undertook to persuade his
sister to accept of a proper release, which, he observed, would not be
binding, if executed during the confinement of Fathom; he therefore took
his leave, in order to prepare the papers, withdraw the action, and take
such other measures as would hinder the prisoner from giving him the
slip. Next day, he returned with an order to release our hero, who,
being formally discharged, was conducted by the lawyer to a tavern in the
neighbourhood, where the releases were exchanged, and everything
concluded with amity and concord. This business being happily
transacted, Fathom stept into a hackney-coach, with his baggage, and was
followed by a bailiff, who told him, with great composure, that he was
again a prisoner, at the suit of Doctor Buffalo, and desired the coachman
to reconduct him to the lodging he had so lately discharged.
Fathom, whose fortitude had been hitherto of the pagan temper, was now
fain to reinforce it with the philosophy of Christian resignation, though
he had not as yet arrived to such a pitch of self-denial as to forgive
the counsellor, to whose double dealing he imputed this new calamity.
After having received the compliments of the jailer on his recommitment,
he took pen, ink, and paper, and composed an artful and affecting epistle
to the empiric, imploring his mercy, flattering his weakness, and
demonstrating the bad policy of cooping up an unhappy man in a jail,
where he could never have an opportunity of doing justice to his
creditors; nor did he forget to declare his intention of retiring into
another country, where he might have some chance of earning a
subsistence, which he had so long toiled for to no purpose in England.
This last declaration he made in consequence of the jealous disposition
of the quack, who he knew had long looked upon him in the odious light of
an interloping rival. However, he reaped no benefit from this
supplication, which served only to gratify the pride of Buffalo, who
produced the extravagant encomiums which Fathom had bestowed upon him, as
so many testimonials of his foe's bearing witness to his virtue.