_Coke Clifton to Guy Fairfax_
_London, Dover Street_
When last I wrote my resolution was taken, and I determined on
immediate attack. But I went in a seeming unlucky moment; though I much
mistake if it were not the very reverse.
The supposed misfortune I had foreseen fell upon me. The 'squire of
preachers had fairly overcome his father's obstinacy, and induced him
to give ground! Instead of having received the news of his determined
persistency, I found her with a letter in her hand, informing her that
he had begun to relent, and that his full acquiescence was expected.
To have commenced the battle at so inauspicious a moment would have
been little worthy of a great captain. My resolution was instantly
formed.
After acting as much ecstasy as I could call up, I hastened home and
wrote my projected letter to honest Aby. I threw my hints together in
Italian, that they might not be understood by the agent whom I meant to
employ. This was my groom, an English lad whom I met with at Paris, who
spells well and writes a good hand. I pretended I had crushed my finger
and could not hold a pen; and, without letting him understand the
intent of my writing, or even that it was a letter, I dictated to him
as follows; a transcript of which I send to you, Fairfax, first that
you may sigh and see what the blessing of a ready invention is, and
next as an example which you may copy, or at least from which you may
take a hint, if ever you should have occasion.
'So you have been persuaded at last to give up your point, my old
friend! And can you swallow this tale of a tub? A fine cock and a bull
story has been dinned in your ears? Don't believe a word on't. I know
the whole affair; and, though you don't know me, be assured I mean you
well: and I tell you that if you will but hold out stoutly every thing
will soon be settled to your heart's desire. She is dying for love of
him, and he can't see it! She will never have the man they mean for
her; I can assure you of that; and what is more he will never have her.
What I tell you I know to be true. No matter who I am. If I knew
nothing of the affair how could I write to you? And if the advice I
give be good, what need you care whom it comes from? Only don't let
your son see this; if you do it will spoil all. You perceive how blind
he is to his own good, and how positive too. Keep your counsel, but be
resolute. Look around you, persist in your own plans, and the hall, the
parks, the gardens, the meadows, the lands you see are all your own! I
am sure you cannot misunderstand me. But mark my words; be close; keep
your thoughts to yourself. You know the world: You have made your own
fortune; don't mar it by your own folly. Tell no tales, I say; nor, if
you are a wise man, give the least hint that you have a friend in a
corner.'
This I dictated to my amanuensis, pretending to translate it out of the
paper I held in my hand, and which I took care to place before him, so
that he should see it was really written in a foreign language. I
likewise once or twice counterfeited a laugh at what I was reading, and
ejaculated to myself--'This is a curious scrap!'
When he had finished I gave him half a crown, praised his hand-writing,
which I told him I wanted to see, for perhaps I might find him better
employment than currying of horses, and sent him about his business too
much pleased and elated, and his ideas led into too distant a train to
harbour the least suspicion.
Nor did my precautions end here. I immediately ordered my horse, and
rode without any attendant full speed to Hounslow. I there desired the
landlord of an inn at which I am personally known, though not by name,
to send one of his own lads, post, to the market town next to
Wenbourne-Hill, and there to hire a countryman, without explaining who
or what he himself was, to deliver the letter into the hands of honest
Aby. I requested the landlord to choose an intelligent messenger, and
backed my request with a present bribe and a future promise.
My plan was too well laid to miscarry, and accordingly yesterday a
mournful account arrived, from the young orator, that judgment is
reversed, and he in imminent danger of being cast in costs.
And now, Fairfax, once more I go!--Expedition, resolution, a torrent of
words, a storm of passion, and the pealing thunder that dies away in
descending rains! The word is Anna St. Ives, revenge, and victory!