CHAPTER IV.

I Was extremely affected by this plea. I could only answer, that Mr.

Raymond must himself be the best judge of the course it became him to

hold; I trusted the case was not so desperate as he imagined.

This subject was pursued no further, and was in some degree driven from

my thoughts by an incident of a very extraordinary nature.

I have already mentioned the animosity that was entertained against me

by the infernal portress of this solitary mansion. Gines, the expelled

member of the gang, had been her particular favourite. She submitted to

his exile indeed, because her genius felt subdued by the energy and

inherent superiority of Mr. Raymond; but she submitted with murmuring

and discontent. Not daring to resent the conduct of the principal in

this affair, she collected all the bitterness of her spirit against me.

To the unpardonable offence I had thus committed in the first instance,

were added the reasonings I had lately offered against the profession of

robbery. Robbery was a fundamental article in the creed of this hoary

veteran, and she listened to my objections with the same unaffected

astonishment and horror that an old woman of other habits would listen

to one who objected to the agonies and dissolution of the Creator of the

world, or to the garment of imputed righteousness prepared to envelope

the souls of the elect. Like the religious bigot, she was sufficiently

disposed to avenge a hostility against her opinions with the weapons of

sublunary warfare.

Meanwhile I had smiled at the impotence of her malice, as an object of

contempt rather than alarm. She perceived, as I imagine, the slight

estimation in which I held her, and this did not a little increase the

perturbation of her thoughts.

One day I was left alone, with no other person in the house than this

swarthy sybil. The thieves had set out upon an expedition about two

hours after sunset on the preceding evening, and had not returned, as

they were accustomed to do, before day-break the next morning. This was

a circumstance that sometimes occurred, and therefore did not produce

any extraordinary alarm. At one time the scent of prey would lead them

beyond the bounds they had prescribed themselves, and at another the

fear of pursuit: the life of a thief is always uncertain. The old woman

had been preparing during the night for the meal to which they would

expect to sit down as soon as might be after their return.

For myself, I had learned from their habits to be indifferent to the

regular return of the different parts of the day, and in some degree to

turn day into night, and night into day. I had been now several weeks in

this residence, and the season was considerably advanced. I had passed

some hours during the night in ruminating on my situation. The character

and manners of the men among whom I lived were disgusting to me. Their

brutal ignorance, their ferocious habits, and their coarse behaviour,

instead of becoming more tolerable by custom, hourly added force to my

original aversion. The uncommon vigour of their minds, and acuteness of

their invention in the business they pursued, compared with the

odiousness of that business and their habitual depravity, awakened in me

sensations too painful to be endured. Moral disapprobation, at least in

a mind unsubdued by philosophy, I found to be one of the most fertile

sources of disquiet and uneasiness. From this pain the society of Mr.

Raymond by no means relieved me. He was indeed eminently superior to the

vices of the rest; but I did not less exquisitely feel how much he was

out of his place, how disproportionably associated, or how contemptibly

employed. I had attempted to counteract the errors under which he and

his companions laboured; but I had found the obstacles that presented

themselves greater than I had imagined.

What was I to do? Was I to wait the issue of this my missionary

undertaking, or was I to withdraw myself immediately? When I withdrew,

ought that to be done privately, or with an open avowal of my design,

and an endeavour to supply by the force of example what was deficient in

my arguments? It was certainly improper, as I declined all participation

in the pursuits of these men, did not pay my contribution of hazard to

the means by which they subsisted, and had no congeniality with their

habits, that I should continue to reside with them longer than was

absolutely necessary. There was one circumstance that rendered this

deliberation particularly pressing. They intended in a few days removing

from their present habitation, to a haunt to which they were accustomed,

in a distant county. If I did not propose to continue with them, it

would perhaps be wrong to accompany them in this removal. The state of

calamity to which my inexorable prosecutor had reduced me, had made the

encounter even of a den of robbers a fortunate adventure. But the time

that had since elapsed, had probably been sufficient to relax the

keenness of the quest that was made after me. I sighed for that solitude

and obscurity, that retreat from the vexations of the world and the

voice even of common fame, which I had proposed to myself when I broke

my prison.

Such were the meditations which now occupied my mind. At length I grew

fatigued with continual contemplation, and to relieve myself pulled out

a pocket Horace, the legacy of my beloved Brightwel! I read with avidity

the epistle in which he so beautifully describes to Fuscus, the

grammarian, the pleasures of rural tranquillity and independence. By

this time the sun rose from behind the eastern hills, and I opened my

casement to contemplate it. The day commenced with peculiar brilliancy,

and was accompanied with all those charms which the poets of nature, as

they have been styled, have so much delighted to describe. There was

something in this scene, particularly as succeeding to the active

exertions of intellect, that soothed the mind to composure. Insensibly a

confused reverie invaded my faculties; I withdrew from the window, threw

myself upon the bed, and fell asleep.

I do not recollect the precise images which in this situation passed

through my thoughts, but I know that they concluded with the idea of

some person, the agent of Mr. Falkland, approaching to assassinate me.

This thought had probably been suggested by the project I meditated of

entering once again into the world, and throwing myself within the

sphere of his possible vengeance. I imagined that the design of the

murderer was to come upon me by surprise, that I was aware of his

design, and yet, by some fascination, had no thought of evading it. I

heard the steps of the murderer as he cautiously approached. I seemed to

listen to his constrained yet audible breathings. He came up to the

corner where I was placed, and then stopped.

The idea became too terrible; I started, opened my eyes, and beheld the

execrable hag before mentioned standing over me with a butcher's

cleaver. I shifted my situation with a speed that seemed too swift for

volition, and the blow already aimed at my skull sunk impotent upon the

bed. Before she could wholly recover her posture, I sprung upon her,

seized hold of the weapon, and had nearly wrested it from her. But in a

moment she resumed her strength and her desperate purpose, and we had a

furious struggle--she impelled by inveterate malice, and I resisting for

my life. Her vigour was truly Amazonian, and at no time had I ever

occasion to contend with a more formidable opponent. Her glance was

rapid and exact, and the shock with which from time to time she impelled

her whole frame inconceivably vehement. At length I was victorious, took

from her the instrument of death, and threw her upon the ground. Till

now the earnestness of her exertions had curbed her rage; but now she

gnashed with her teeth, her eyes seemed as if starting from their

sockets, and her body heaved with uncontrollable insanity.

"Rascal! devil!" she exclaimed, "what do you mean to do to me?"

Till now the scene had passed uninterrupted by a single word.

"Nothing," I replied: "begone, infernal witch! and leave me to myself."

"Leave you! No: I will thrust my fingers through your ribs, and drink

your blood!--You conquer me?--Ha, ha!--Yes, yes; you shall!--I will sit

upon you, and press you to hell! I will roast you with brimstone, and

dash your entrails into your eyes! Ha, ha!--ha!"

Saying this, she sprung up, and prepared to attack me with redoubled

fury. I seized her hands, and compelled her to sit upon the bed. Thus

restrained, she continued to express the tumult of her thoughts by

grinning, by certain furious motions of her head, and by occasional

vehement efforts to disengage herself from my grasp. These contortions

and starts were of the nature of those fits in which the patients are

commonly supposed to need three or four persons to hold them. But I

found by experience that, under the circumstances in which I was

placed, my single strength was sufficient. The spectacle of her emotions

was inconceivably frightful. Her violence at length however began to

abate, and she became convinced of the hopelessness of the contest.

"Let me go!" said she. "Why do you hold me? I will not be held."

"I wanted you gone from the first," replied I.

"Are you contented to go now?"

"Yes, I tell you, misbegotten villain! Yes, rascal!"

I immediately loosed my hold. She flew to the door, and, holding it in

her hand, said, "I will be the death of you yet: you shall not be your

own man twenty-four hours longer!" With these words she shut the door,

and locked it upon me. An action so totally unexpected startled me.

Whither was she gone? What was it she intended? To perish by the

machinations of such a hag as this was a thought not to be endured.

Death in any form brought upon us by surprise, and for which the mind

has had no time to prepare, is inexpressibly terrible. My thoughts

wandered in breathless horror and confusion, and all within was uproar.

I endeavoured to break the door, but in vain. I went round the room in

search of some tool to assist me. At length I rushed against it with a

desperate effort, to which it yielded, and had nearly thrown me from the

top of the stairs to the bottom.

I descended with all possible caution and vigilance, I entered the room

which served us for a kitchen, but it was deserted. I searched every

other apartment in vain. I went out among the ruins; still I discovered

nothing of my late assailant. It was extraordinary: what could be become

of her? what was I to conclude from her disappearance! I reflected on

her parting menace,--"I should not be my own man twenty-four hours

longer." It was mysterious! it did not seem to be the menace of

assassination. Suddenly the recollection of the hand-bill brought to us

by Larkins rushed upon my memory. Was it possible that she alluded to

that in her parting words? Would she set out upon such an expedition by

herself? Was it not dangerous to the whole fraternity if, without the

smallest precaution, she should bring the officers of justice in the

midst of them? It was perhaps improbable she would engage in an

undertaking thus desperate. It was not however easy to answer for the

conduct of a person in her state of mind. Should I wait, and risk the

preservation of my liberty upon the issue?

To this question I returned an immediate negative. I had resolved in a

short time to quit my present situation, and the difference of a little

sooner or a little later could not be very material. It promised to be

neither agreeable nor prudent for me to remain under the same roof with

a person who had manifested such a fierce and inexpiable hostility. But

the consideration which had inexpressibly the most weight with me,

belonged to the ideas of imprisonment, trial, and death. The longer they

had formed the subject of my contemplation, the more forcibly was I

impelled to avoid them. I had entered upon a system of action for that

purpose; I had already made many sacrifices; and I believed that I would

never miscarry in this project through any neglect of mine. The thought

of what was reserved for me by my persecutors sickened my very soul; and

the more intimately I was acquainted with oppression and injustice, the

more deeply was I penetrated with the abhorrence to which they are

entitled.

Such were the reasons that determined me instantly, abruptly, without

leave-taking, or acknowledgment for the peculiar and repeated favours I

had received, to quit a habitation to which, for six weeks, I had

apparently been indebted for protection from trial, conviction, and an

ignominious death. I had come hither pennyless; I quitted my abode with

the sum of a few guineas in my possession, Mr. Raymond having insisted

upon my taking a share at the time that each man received his dividend

from the common stock. Though I had reason to suppose that the heat of

the pursuit against me would be somewhat remitted by the time that had

elapsed, the magnitude of the mischief that, in an unfavourable event,

might fall on me, determined me to neglect no imaginable precaution. I

recollected the hand-bill which was the source of my present alarm, and

conceived that one of the principal dangers which threatened me was the

recognition of my person, either by such as had previously known me, or

even by strangers. It seemed prudent therefore to disguise it as

effectually as I could. For this purpose I had recourse to a parcel of

tattered garments, that lay in a neglected corner of our habitation. The

disguise I chose was that of a beggar. Upon this plan, I threw off my

shirt; I tied a handkerchief about my head, with which I took care to

cover one of my eyes; over this I drew a piece of an old woollen

nightcap. I selected the worst apparel I could find; and this I reduced

to a still more deplorable condition, by rents that I purposely made in

various places. Thus equipped, I surveyed myself in a looking-glass. I

had rendered my appearance complete; nor would any one have suspected

that I was not one of the fraternity to which I assumed to belong. I

said, "This is the form in which tyranny and injustice oblige me to seek

for refuge: but better, a thousand times better is it, thus to incur

contempt with the dregs of mankind, than trust to the tender mercies of

our superiors!"

Caleb Williams; Or, Things as They Are · 第 4 / 15 章