_Coke Clifton to Guy Fairfax_
_Rose-Bank_
You will perceive, Fairfax, I have changed the scene, and am now in the
country. I have a long narrative to detail, and am sitting in an old
hall with gloom and leisure enough to make it as tedious and as dull as
you could wish. My poor mother has taken her last leave of us, and lies
now a corpse in the room under me. I could be melancholy, or mad, or I
know not what--But 'tis no matter--She brought me here unasked to make
the journey of this world, and now I am obliged to jog on. Not that I
think I should much care if it were shortened, nor how soon; except
that I would live to have my revenge; and that I will have, little
troubling myself though the next minute were certain to be my last. It
rankles at my heart, and lies there corroding, biting, festering, night
and day.
I have quarrelled with my sister, and I am sure shall never forgive
her; nor will she forgive me, so that we shall easily balance our
accounts. This Anna St. Ives is her supreme favourite. But no
wonder--No wonder--It would be strange if she were not! Still to be
so ready to give up a brother, and write me such a letter as she did
on the death of my mother! If I do not make her repent it Heaven
renounce me!
But I consider the whole world as my enemies at this moment; you
perhaps, Fairfax, excepted. I say perhaps, for I do not know how soon
you may turn upon and yelp at me with the rest.
Forgive me, Fairfax. I am all venom, all viper, and cannot forbear to
hiss even at my friend. But let my enemies beware! They shall find I
can sting!--These cursed gnawings of heart will not let me begin my
story.
I told you I was determined to deny the anonymous letter. I have been
very industrious with uncle Fitz-Allen and aunt Wenbourne; and have
been equally careful to titilate the vanity of the coxcomb Edward, who
is highly flattered with the attention I have paid him, and will I am
certain become my warm partisan.
They had all heard the story, but were all ready enough to gape and
swallow my tale; which considering it was wholly invention was not ill
composed. I begin to hate myself, to hate her, to hate the whole world,
for being obliged to submit to such a damned expedient. But I will not
recede. I will have my revenge! Were the devil himself waiting to
devour me I would on; or were he engaged against me, I would over-reach
him!
I concerted my measures, and learning that this lad of mine, who wrote
the letter for me, was down at Wenbourne-Hill, I sent my man to
inveigle him to come to me, at an inn where I purposely stopped, in my
way to Rose-Bank. How durst they suborn my servant?--But--! I will stab
and not curse!
My valet executed his commission, and prevailed on the lad to come;
though with some difficulty, for he is a stubborn dog; and had not the
valet followed my directions, and told him it was to do his old master
a service, he would have been foiled. But I took him up at Paris,
destitute and in some danger of starving, which he has not forgotten.
This Henley however is a greater favourite with him than I am; as I
soon found by his discourse.
I began by sounding him, to try if it were possible to prevail on him
to assert he had written the letter at the instigation of Henley,
instead of me; but I soon found it was in vain, and durst not proceed
to let him see my drift.
I then persuaded him that they had totally mistaken my purpose in
writing the letter; that I had done it with a very friendly design;
that I had myself a very great esteem for Henley, and that I meant
nothing but good to Anna; but that there were some reasons, which I
could not explain to him, that had occasioned me to write the letter.
As my next purpose, after that of making him an evidence in my favour,
was to send him entirely out of the way, if I failed in the first
attempt, I began to remind him of the condition in which I had found
him in Paris, which he was ready enough to acknowledge, and seemed
indeed afraid of acting ungratefully. I prompted and strengthened his
fears, and at last told him that, since I found he was a good lad and
meant well, though he was mistaken and had done me an injury, I would
give him an opportunity of shewing his gratitude.
I then pretended that I had a packet of the utmost consequence to be
delivered to my friend in Paris; meaning you, Fairfax; which I durst
not trust to any but a sure hand: and as I knew him to be an honest
lad, I expected he would not refuse to set off with it immediately. It
was an affair almost of life and death! And, that I might impress his
mind with ideas which would associate and beget suitable images, I
began to talk of the decease of my mother, of my own affliction at the
misunderstanding with Anna, of my very great friendship for Henley, and
of the fatal consequences that would attend the miscarriage of the
packet.
Still I found him reluctant. He seemed half to suspect me; and yet I
made a very clever tale of it. He talked of Henley and his aunt; and he
had likewise a dread of Paris. His aunt I find has been maintained by
Henley, she being lame and disabled; and as sending him out of the way
was a preliminary step absolutely necessary, I gave him a thirty pound
bank-note, desired him to go to his aunt and give her ten pounds, and
to keep the rest to secure him against any accidents, of which he
seemed afraid, in a strange country; with a promise that he should have
as much more, if he performed his commission faithfully, on his return.
I further enquired the direction of the aunt, telling him I would
undertake to provide for her: and so I must, for she too must be sent
out of the way.
At last, by repeating my professions and again reminding him of my
taking him up at Paris, I was successful. Though I had more trouble in
gaining the compliance of this lout than would have been sufficient,
were I prime minister, and did I bribe with any thing like the same
comparative liberality, to gain ten worthy members of parliament,
though five knights of the shire had been of the number.
He wanted to return to Wenbourne-Hill for his necessaries and trifling
property; and this reminded me not only of the danger of doing that but
of his passing through London. Accordingly I told him to keep the ten
pounds meant for his aunt to buy himself what things he wanted, which I
promised to replace to her, and informed him I now recollected that he
must take the nearest road to Dover, which I pretended lay through
Guildford, Bletchingly, and Tunbridge, leaving London on the left.
The importance, hurry and command I assumed did not give him time to
reflect; and the injunctions I gave were such as I do not imagine he
would have disobeyed. But for my own security, pretending a fear that
he might mistake his way, I sent my valet with him; privately ordering
the valet not to part till he saw him safe on board the packet-boat.
And now, Fairfax, it is not impossible but the wise uncle, who has an
excellent scent at discovery and no small opinion of his own acuteness,
may find out that Henley himself was the forger of this letter; that it
was a collusion between him and the lad, that he has himself removed
both the lad and the aunt, and that his charity is a farce. I say such
an event is possible. You may be sure that the idea shall be wholly his
own, and that I will allow him all the just praise which he will
graciously bestow upon his penetration.
My directions to the lad were to bring the packet immediately to you;
which packet you will find to be blank paper, for I had no time for any
thing more, except a short note of which the following is a copy.
An event which I have not leisure to relate occasions me to send you
this by a special messenger. You will most probably receive a letter
express from me before he arrives, but if not detain him carefully.
Hint not a word of the matter, but make a pretext of urgent business
concerning me, for the issue of which he must wait. At all events do
not let him escape, till you hear further from,