I repeated my question.

If he must tell me, he only proposed to carry off the poor fellow, and

to hide him for a month or two. And this he would have done, let what

would have been the consequence.

Was ever such a wretch heard of!--I sighed from the bottom of my heart;

but bid him proceed from the part I had interrupted him at.

'I ordered the fellow, as I told you, Madam, said he, to keep within

view of the garden-door: and if he found any parley between us, and any

body coming (before you could retreat undiscovered) whose coming might

be attended with violent effects, he should cry out; and this not only

in order to save himself from their suspicions of him, but to give me

warning to make off, and, if possible, to induce you (I own it, Madam)

to go off with me, according to your own appointment. And I hope all

circumstances considered, and the danger I was in of losing you for

ever, that the acknowledgement of that contrivance, or if you had not

met me, that upon Solmes, will not procure me your hatred: for, had they

come as I expected as well as you, what a despicable wretch had I been,

could I have left you to the insults of a brother and other of your

family, whose mercy was cruelty when they had not the pretence with

which this detected interview would have furnished them!'

What a wretch! said I.--But if, Sir, taking your own account of this

strange matter to be fact, any body were coming, how happened it, that I

saw only that man Leman (I thought it was he) out at the door, and at a

distance, look after us?

Very lucky! said he, putting his hand first in one pocket, then in

another--I hope I have not thrown it away--it is, perhaps, in the coat

I had on yesterday--little did I think it would be necessary to be

produced--but I love to come to a demonstration whenever I can--I may

be giddy--I may be heedless. I am indeed--but no man, as to you, Madam,

ever had a sincerer heart.

He then stepping to the parlour-door, called his servant to bring him

the coat he had on yesterday.

The servant did. And in the pocket, rumpled up as a paper he regarded

not, he pulled out a letter, written by that Joseph, dated Monday night;

in which 'he begs pardon for crying out so soon--says, That his fears of

being discovered to act on both sides, had made him take the rushing of

a little dog (that always follows him) through the phyllirea-hedge, for

Betty's being at hand, or some of his masters: and that when he found

his mistake, he opened the door by his own key (which the contriving

wretch confessed he had furnished him with) and inconsiderately ran out

in a hurry, to have apprized him that his crying out was owing to his

fright only:' and he added, 'that they were upon the hunt for me, by the

time he returned.*

* See his Letter to Joseph Leman, Vol.III. No.III. towards the end, where

he tells him, he would contrive for him a letter of this nature to copy.

I shook my head--Deep! deep! deep! said I, at the best!--O Mr. Lovelace!

God forgive and reform you!--But you are, I see plainly, (upon the whole

of your own account,) a very artful, a very designing man.

Love, my dearest life, is ingenious. Night and day have I racked my

stupid brain [O Sir, thought I, not stupid! 'Twere well perhaps if it

were] to contrive methods to prevent the sacrifice designed to be made

of you, and the mischief that must have ensued upon it: so little hold

in your affections: such undeserved antipathy from your friends: so much

danger of losing you for ever from both causes. I have not had for the

whole fortnight before last Monday, half an hour's rest at a time. And

I own to you, Madam, that I should never have forgiven myself, had I

omitted any contrivance or forethought that would have prevented your

return without me.

Again I blamed myself for meeting him: and justly; for there were

many chances to one, that I had not met him. And if I had not, all his

fortnight's contrivances, as to me, would have come to nothing; and,

perhaps, I might nevertheless have escaped Solmes.

Yet, had he resolved to come to Harlowe-place with his friends, and been

insulted, as he certainly would have been, what mischiefs might have

followed!

But his resolutions to run away with and to hide the poor Solmes for

a month or so, O my dear! what a wretch have I let run away with me,

instead of Solmes!

I asked him, if he thought such enormities as these, such defiances of

the laws of society, would have passed unpunished?

He had the assurance to say, with one of his usual gay airs, That he

should by this means have disappointed his enemies, and saved me from a

forced marriage. He had no pleasure in such desperate pushes. Solmes

he would not have personally hurt. He must have fled his country, for a

time at least: and, truly, if he had been obliged to do so, (as all

his hopes of my favour must have been at an end,) he would have had a

fellow-traveller of his own sex out of our family, whom I little thought

of.

Was ever such a wretch!--To be sure he meant my brother!

And such, Sir, said I, in high resentment, are the uses you make of your

corrupt intelligencer--

My corrupt intelligencer, Madam! interrupted he, He is to this hour your

brother's as well as mine. By what I have ingenuously told you, you may

see who began this corruption. Let me assure you, Madam, that there are

many free things which I have been guilty of as reprisals, in which I

would not have been the aggressor.

All that I shall further say on this head, Mr. Lovelace, is this: that

as this vile double-faced wretch has probably been the cause of great

mischief on both sides, and still continues, as you own, his wicked

practices, I think it would be but just, to have my friends apprized

what a creature he is whom some of them encourage.

What you please, Madam, as to that--my service, as well as your

brother's is now almost over for him. The fellow has made a good hand of

it. He does not intend to stay long in his place. He is now actually in

treaty for an inn, which will do his business for life. I can tell

you further, that he makes love to your sister's Betty: and that by my

advice. They will be married when he is established. An innkeeper's

wife is every man's mistress; and I have a scheme in my head to set some

engines at work to make her repent her saucy behaviour to you to the

last day of her life.

What a wicked schemer you are, Sir!--Who shall avenge upon you the still

greater evils which you have been guilty of? I forgive Betty with all

my heart. She was not my servant; and but too probably, in what she did,

obeyed the commands of her to whom she owed duty, better than I obeyed

those to whom I owed more.

No matter for that, the wretch said [To be sure, my dear, he must

design to make me afraid of him]: The decree was gone out--Betty must

smart--smart too by an act of her own choice. He loved, he said, to

make bad people their own punishers.--Nay, Madam, excuse me; but if the

fellow, if this Joseph, in your opinion, deserves punishment, mine is

a complicated scheme; a man and his wife cannot well suffer separately,

and it may come home to him too.

I had no patience with him. I told him so. I see, Sir, said I, I see,

what a man I am with. Your rattle warns me of the snake.--And away I

flung: leaving him seemingly vexed, and in confusion.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 3 · 第 74 / 189 题