CHAP. IV.
London.
London.
London.
London.
I will be calm. Is it fit for a wretchlike meto flinch at the sight of inanimate objects? To tremble, and faint in astreet, because once trodden by my feet, when youth and health glowed in my cheek, and hope in my bosom? Is itfor me, familiar with misery, to droop at the view of that abode in which I once for a moment grasped the fleeting form of happiness, gazed on her image, and fixed her lineaments on my heart, and then I saw her vanish? No: Duncan ought to have a soul braced, an arm nerved for the work before him.His Maker has not forgotten the work of his hand. He will triumph,even in this world! Oh memory, unfold thy tablets! Show to my injured wife the man she loved, the man she has wept as worthless!——and then!!—
Is it needful for me to recall to my Harriet’s recollection, our mutual doubts of Flamall’s honour and principles; as these appeared in his conduct to me, they were grounded on his evading every enquiry I made relative to the deceased Mrs. Duncan’s effects and papers. But I had still more convincing proofs of his real character than I discovered to his sister. I saw, that in his professional line, he had few clients of respectability, and that he was a rascal. Determined onmyconduct as soon as I could legally call on him to account for his, I simply declared to you my purpose of quitting his house the day I should come of age; and you concurred in this plan. Is it necessary to remindyou of those tender fears and apprehensions which resulted from our union! Oh no! you cannot have forgotten them, nor my arguments for your immediately leaving a house, in which you were subjected to perpetual alarms. You will also recollect, that we both believed our liberality to the Keiths had bound them to our interest; particularly Mrs. Keith, who had gratefully acknowledged my gift of Mrs. Duncan’s apparel, and the little advantages which her slender purse derived from her being my laundress.
Passing near her house one morning, just before you left London with your friends, the Hatchways, a dray-man so completely bespattered me, that, in order to shun the laughter of the diverted witnesses of this mischance, I took refuge at Mrs. Keith’s: knowing that I could there change my linen, &c. During her kind offices about me, I observed, that she had been weeping; and, whilst waiting for mycoat to dry, her dejection led me to ask her what had disturbed her. “Only the old story,” answered she, weeping anew, “I am weary of my life; my husband was never good; but of late he is a brute, and beats me, because I cannot go to market without money. God help me, I am too honest for Patrick!” “He ought to husband his money better,” replied I, “he is in constant employment with Mr. Flamall I find, and he is a good copier.” “He will never find that any thing he gains from that quarter will thrive,” answered she, colouring with resentment; “the good old proverb is against him. What is got by the devil’s means will go as it came.” “You ought not to blame Mr. Flamall,” observed I, prolonging my toilet, “that he cannot teach your husband to take care of the money he earns: Flamall is not a spendthrift.” “He is too cunning for you to understand,” replied she, nodding her head significantly, “but hewill soon show the cloven foot; what is to become of you, when your wife wants a cradle for her poor babe? Patrick swears that I shall not take her in: the Lord help you both; there will be such doings, and no Mrs. Duncan to stand by you with her purse!” “I defy Mr. Flamall,” answered I, “and will soon let him know that I can protect my wife; in less than four months I shall be master of my dear mother’s little provision, and with that, and industry, my Harriet shall have a cradle for our infant.” She shook her head despondingly, “Poor soul!” said she; “it is perhaps happy for her that she is removed, she loved you better than manyrealmothers do their children; it would have grieved her to see you set fast so young.” “How came you to know this secret?” asked I, without betraying my emotions. “Because I heard Mrs. Duncan say, that she was not your mother,” answered she, “when she gave her dying instructions toyourhonest guardianwith the pocket book for you, in case you outlived her: besides this, I could say more if I pleased; but I do not wish to bring Patrick to the gallows, he will find the road without my help! see his tender marks,” added she, weeping, and uncovering her bosom. It was bruised. My compassion soothed her; but she became more guarded; and only confessed that I had not been well used, adding, “I have said enough to you, and should my husband know it, he would murder me. But the time may come, when you will be able to take care of me. I have not forgotten the black pocket book, nor the letters on it, studded with silver, nor what is more, the bank notes it contained. I know thatten hundred make a thousand, as well as the lawyer. Betty Keith is neither deaf nor blind.” In vain did I urge her to be more explicit. “So I will, when I am upon oath,” answered she; “but you can do nothing at present,and you must be gone. My husband may return, and he will suspect I have beenprating, as he calls it, when I do but turn the tongue in my head.” I took the hint, and giving her a guinea, left the room. You were on the eve of your little voyage, ill and dejected, and I forbore to add to your inquietude. Your departure followed, and Duncan’s fate advanced to the crisis which terminated his hopes and prospectsin this world. A few days passed. My bosom was relieved of its fears for your safety; you wrote in spirits; and you concurred in your second letter, in my plan of removing you from Y——th to the north; and from thence declaring your marriage to your brother. At this juncture I received an anonymous letter; it was dated from Helvoetsluys, the language English, with foreign idioms. The writer signified that he was deputed by my parents to inform me, that the mystery in which my birth had been involved was removed;but for many cogent reasons, which should be explained, he was commissioned to meet me at Harwich; that he should perhaps be there as soon as his letter; but at all hazards in a few days, and should wait my arrival at the Ship inn. “Be only anxious,” added he, “to be punctual to this rendezvous. Measures for your future destination in the world will result from this interview. Be on the reserve with those about you, and above all, trust not the man who calls himself your guardian; he has an eye over him which he little suspects, and he will have an account to settle, not with theobscureandfriendless Charles Duncan, but with an arm of power, which shall crush him, as the spoiler of the widow and the orphan.”
You will imagine that my whole soul was fixed on accomplishing the journey to Harwich. It so entirely engaged my thoughts, that I spoke of my intention toSimons, saying I should ask Mr. Flamall for a week or ten days holiday, in order to meet a friend at Harwich. “He will refuse you,” replied he, “for he wants you in the office to supply his own absence. He can find leisure for his own jaunts, but he thinks not of us.” “I will not be refused,” replied I eagerly, “then do as I do in such cases,” said he; “Send your trunk off before you, and take a French leave when you can, in order to bring home your portmanteau: there will be no end of his objections!”
I availed myself of Simons’s counsel, and sent a small portmanteau to the Harwich coach that evening. On the following morning I civilly requested your brother to spare me ten days or a fortnight, explaining to him my wishes in part, by saying, that I expected to meet a friend at Harwich, and we should probably make a little excursion together. Good God, how delightful were my prospects! forthese were bounded by seeing you and announcing my parents to you! Some questions, for which I was prepared, followed: reluctance gradually yielded. “He thought it but an idle expence; but I had been frugal, and therefore he should not refuse me;” and, opening his desk, he paid me my quarterly stipend of twenty guineas, which had been due nearly a month. He soon after told Simons, that he was going with a party of friends to Windsor, and should not return for a day or two; then carelessly asking me, when and how I intended to journey, he left us; shaking me by the hand, and with a Judas’s smile, he bade me “remember that my purse had not the virtue of Fortunatus’s.” Simons boasted much of a horse which a friend of his let out; and so strongly pointed out to me the advantages of travelling in this mode, that I went with him to the livery stable, in order to see the animal thus recommended. It hadbeen a fine one; but had been ridden down, and I should have given up my project of riding on horseback but for his persuasions. He was certain the beast would travel well with me, and return better than when he set out; the terms were easy, and to please Simons, I consented to please his friend, the proprietor of the horse. Amongst the various arguments he used was one, which had probably turned the scale. I could run down to Rumford that night; the horse had been at the manger the whole day, and the remainder of the road to Harwich was light work. This project was adopted; but a heavy rain stopped me for some hours; and it was nine o’clock in the evening when I mounted and parted with my officious friend at the livery stable. The clouds were dispersed, and the moon, though not in her zenith, favouring me, I proceeded on gently. The horse was stiff with fatigue, and I found that Simonshad “taken me in,” to use his own quaint language, I was within half a mile of Woodford, a village on the Epping road, when I was accosted by name, by a man whom I recollected having seen once or twice in your brother’s office. He checked the bridle, and civility obliged me to stop. Enquiries after Mr. Flamall’s health, were followed by wondering to meet me so late on such a road. “I may wonder in my turn,” answered I, “for you have more to apprehend from this damp evening than I have. But you will excuse me, I am hastening to Stretham, still some miles from hence.” I spurred my horse and bowing, wished him a good night. He shouting after me, “Look to your pistols, young man.” I had pistols with me, but I needed them not. I proceeded unmolested in my journey till within a mile of Rumford; when the miserable beast I rode making a trip, fell; and I received a contusion on my knee, that, for a time,prevented my rising, and totally disabled me from mounting again. With much difficulty I reached an inn at Rumford, leading the horse, and in my wish to find shelter, I became indifferent to accommodations. I took the first house that was open, and found, with civility, a bed, to which I instantly repaired. The next morning I found the injury I had received too serious to allow me to prosecute my journey, without hazard, on Simons’s vaunted horse. I therefore sent the beast home, with a note to Simons, mentioning my accident, and the necessity I was under of pursuing my journey in a post chaise, as it was absolutely my purpose to be at Harwich on the Saturday. My hostess, had, in the mean time, with much humanity applied her infallible nostrum to my knee; and, on my quitting her the following day, she generously insisted on my taking some of the ointment with me, assuring me, that by being repeated, itwould relieve not only the tumour, but the pain. In this point, she was however mistaken, and, on reaching the appointed inn at Harwich, I could not stand on my legs. The waiter, who assisted me into the house, asked me, whether my name was Duncan; and being answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to tell me, that a person had called twice, within the hour, to enquire for me. Not doubting but this was my incognito friend, and that he would return to the house, I ordered him to be conducted to me, and dismissed the man for some coffee. During this interval of suspense and curiosity my knee solicited my attention; it was extremely painful, and I had recourse to my Rumford landlady’s specific for a bruise. Whilst employed in applying most assuredly what most assuredly augmented the evil, the door of the apartment was suddenly opened; and to my inconceivable surprise Simons hastily entered. “You are comeat last,” said he with an oath, “I have been on the rack these two hours.” “AndIfor near four and twenty,” replied I, interrupting him, and directing his attention to my employment; “but what brings you hither?” He grasped my hand with eagerness, and in a low voice told me, that he came to save my life. I laughed, I believe, for he swore most horridly, and concluded by saying, that he had not time to see me play the fool. “The person,” added he, “commissioned by your father to meet you here, is no stranger to me. Let it suffice, I am in his secret. He is, it may be, at this instant dying at Helvoetsluys of a fever, and I am ordered to conduct you there to him; all is prepared; and you must go this instant on board the packet. There is not a moment to lose.” I hesitated, for I thought of my Harriet; but he urged me with a vehemence that confounded my deliberations; and concluded by saying, that myhonour, and even my life, depended on my following him. With his help and a porter’s I was conveyed to the water-side, and there found the boat, in which we reached the packet, then, getting under sail, I threw myself on the bed reserved for me, subdued by the pain in my knee, and soon after was seized with the sea sickness. I saw no more of my companion that night: and learned that, fearing to share in the common malady, he preferred being on deck. It was with difficulty that I supported myself to the public house at the Sluys; but overcome, as I was, with pain, I failed not to remark, that Simons spoke the Dutch language fluently. “It is well I can,” answered he roughly to my observation, “for your friend is not here; we must proceed to Rotterdam; and you must bear up as well as you can; the passage-boat is an easy conveyance for you. This boat was shared by others as well as ourselves; and with an irritation of mind,as great as my bodily sufferings, we proceeded to Rotterdam; and on reaching the hotel, I fainted. On recovering my senses, which had been suspended for some time, I saw a well dressed man engaged in giving me succour, and I concluded that this was the person I was to meet. On asking Simons whether he was the dying man I had been led to expect, he answered, that he was a surgeon, and that my knee required some better remedy than I had applied. I submitted to his orders, and was carried to bed. At length Simons was at leisure to satisfy my curiosity. He began the subject himself, by observing with some ill-humour that it was unlucky—I omit the epithets, my Harriet, with which he interlarded even his expressions of kindness, that, what with the indisposition of my friend, and my accident, which he found from the surgeon would unavoidably detain me some days in my bed, he shouldbe forced to prolong his stay. I have written to Amsterdam,” continued he, “where I find the sick man was advised to remain; to-morrow or the next day, we shall have letters.” Need, I say, in what manner this interval was filled up by me! I wrote you a circumstantial account of these various events; and the fond wish of making my Harriet easy under a separation so unexpected, imparted to my bosom a portion of those hopes which were necessary for her support as well as mine. This letter I intrusted to the surgeon’s care, not chusing to employ Simons. I made him comprehend, that it was of importance to me; and, with a good-natured smile, he satisfied me, that he would faithfully discharge his trust. It was under cover to Mrs. Keith. Too fatally certain is it, that you never saw this letter! In the mean time, my soul was on the rack, from having no intelligence of you. Again, and again, I wrote to Mrs. Keith, and to you. I had no letters, and I began to suspect the surgeonhad given Simons my letters, instead of putting them into the post-office. In the mean time his attention to my accommodations and health had nothing in them to surprise me; for he constantly talked of his being commissioned by the gentleman at Amsterdam, to be careful of his “precious charge,” and sometimes he translated passages from his letters expressive of the importance of my person, and his anxiety in not being in a state to attend me himself. I was now on crutches, and free from pain; and I was told that it was proper for me to proceed to Amsterdam. I decidedly refused, saying that I was determined to return to England; and he might inform his correspondent of my resolution, it being indispensibly necessary for my peace, to have news from thence. “I will furnish you with a newspaper,” said he gravely; “that will, I trust, make you change your mind; but it may not be amiss to prepare you fornewsthat willsurprise you more than you are aware.” He began his narrative of the highway robbery charged on me, and finished by placing before me the article in the day’s paper, which, with a detail of the particulars, included a description of my person, situation, and even the initials of my name, and of the master with whom I served as clerk. You will judge, my Harriet, of the effect which this intelligence produced. I solemnly swore that no power on earth should prevent my immediately appearing and confronting the base and false accuser. “You know best,” replied Simons, “the proofs with which you can invalidate this man’s positive oath.” But I would advise you rather to secure such a condition of fortune, as will of itself, with nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand, prove that you are slandered. “In a word,” continued he, with a serious air, “I have had my instructions from those, who will take care of your honour betterthan you are able to do yourself. Your parents are rich and powerful, and, trust me, more thanonewill be called to a strict account for their conduct in regard to you.” I was still resolved on my measures; for my wife’s deplorable condition solely engaged me. “It is well, Sir,” observed he, with a tone of authority, “I shall proceed without you, and even if it be necessary to Cadiz, and inform your noble parents, that you preferred agibbetto them. But you are a simpleton, Duncan,” added he, with more kindness, “I know your motive for this headstrong folly. Will your appearance, and the charge which will be brought against you, lessen the distress of the girl you love?” I started. “I know more than you think of that business also,” continued he; “and I advise you to write to her, and instantly make your way to your parents. You will then be able to offer her the protection she needs.” I burst into tears, andreproached him with having stopped my letters. He vehemently denied the charge; adding, “that he pitied Miss Flamall, and was better pleased to serve her than to injure her.”
Unable to extract more from a man who hourly assumed with me more ofrespectas well as ofauthority, I yielded to his control. I was still lame and helpless; and except the diminished sum with which your brother had furnished me, I had no resources for my premeditated plan. Simons soothed me, by conducting me to the post-office, where I deposited a letter for you, and his orders taken, to forward all letters to our address at Cadiz, to a house of business sufficiently ostensible to gain him attention with the people at the office. We prepared immediately for our departure for Amsterdam, when he entered the apartment with an opened letter in his hand. “I thought how it would be,” said he, “your cursed accident, and the delayit has occasioned will oblige me to go the whole voyage with you. Your father’s agent is too ill for the voyage; he has sent me bills of “exchange;” he displayed the notes, and urged me to lose no time. He is, I find, in the country; and dangerously ill. However, I am embarked, and will not desert you. At Amsterdam I was again surprised. ThisProteusspoke the Spanish tongue well, and in his conversation with the captain of a Spanish ship bound for Cadiz, I perceived that he assumed the gravity and stateliness of a Spanish grandee. On the man’s leaving us, after having settled the terms for our accommodation, I mentioned my surprise, on finding him so qualified for a traveller.” “I lived on the continent some time in my young days,” answered he. “I was private secretary to an ambassador, who in his lack of brains, forgot to pay me for the five years use he made of mine; he taught me a lesson however which I wanted,” continued he with a malicious grin,“namely, to live by my own wit; and to regard every man either as a fool or a knave.” It required very little judgment, my dear Harriet, to determine the class to which Simons belonged; yet in spite of his habitual vulgarity, and coarse language, I hourly perceived that he had moved in a different sphere, and could at his pleasure assume the gentleman. He spoke of me as a Spaniard by birth, and by the respect he showed me, taught those about me to consider me as of importance; performing the part of my governor; and making no secret of my having been a stranger to my rank, parents, and country, from nearly the hour I was born. These hints were needless, to stimulate a curiosity constantly on the fullest stretch. To my questions I received only one answer: “I am bound to secresy, and it is formy interestto be faithful. Have patience, time will discover all to you.” Thus goaded on, and convinced of my inability of securing himin my interest; having exhausted my own little stock of money, and depending, in a strange country upon Simons for pecuniary assistance, I left Amsterdam without having received letters from you; and in the anguish of my soul I sought relief from the hope of meeting with protection, and being placed in a situation to succour you; for I made no doubt of your brother’s interference with your wishes to write to me. Our navigation was for a time pleasant. The gentle breezes which filled our sails soon exempted me from sea sickness; rest restored my knee, and my hours were beguiled by my assiduously studying the Spanish language; for which, Simons having proposed it for my amusement, I had purchased a few needful books.
At this period, however, one incidental cause of sorrow was added to my oppressive burden. Two or three days after your departure from town, I had began to bathe, trusting to its relieving me from a portion, at least, of that languor which I experienced;and, cautiously guarded in all that related to my Harriet, had taken your picture from my bosom, and placed it in my port-folio with your letters, which I carefully kept locked in a large trunk, with articles that were not of every day’s use. I had seen on reaching Helvoetsluys that this trunk made the greatest part of our baggage; and on noticing it to Simons, he replied, that he expected my thanks for his zeal in my service in bringing it, as he supposed it was kept as lumber in my room, and that I should have no objection to a change of linen. To this necessity I had been hitherto a stranger, and the trunk remained corded till I was settled in my cabin on board the Spanish ship. The treasure it contained was too precious to be forgotten. I searched for it in vain. Neither your letters nor your portrait were to be found. I did not conceal my suspicions, nor my distress from Simons, who as usual, with the most horridimprecations affirmed that he had not opened the trunk; nor had any other motive in removing it, but that of contributing to my comforts and amusement, knowing that I had some books in it. To contest with Simons was a vain attempt. I was silenced, and bore this trial, to use my master’s words like a “whining puppy.” Yet in spite of himself I perceived that he had an interest in preserving my health and tranquillity, and that he never ceased to recommend to me patience; hinting continually that I should soon be in a condition to take ample vengeance on those who had injured me, and to protect you, who had been so unjustly dealt with. These conversations with his avowed good will for you, and pity for me had their effect.
We were within thirty or forty leagues of our post when we were boarded by a large, well-armed Algerine corsair, and taken without resistance; for such wasthe inferiority of our force, that it was not possible for us to escape. Surprised and confounded by an event for which I was altogether unprepared, my compassion was notwithstanding exerted in comforting my terrified companion. I strove to encourage him by the same hopes which had calmed my own spirits; and with confidence I assured him, that as subjects of Great Britain we should be enlarged at Algiers; and that we had only to apply to the British consul resident there, in order to be protected. In this expectation we were cruelly disappointed, by the measures which the pirate pursued; who from motives we could not fathom, after having treated me with extraordinary lenity, and Simons without rigour, landed us with great circumspection during the night at some distance from the harbour; and to our amazement and consternation we were, with our chests, placed in a covered vehicle not unlike a waggon, and without loss oftime conducted up the country. We were manacled and vigilantly concealed from every eye by those who were charged with us; who still maintained their claims to our gratitude, by offering us no violence or harshness. I had not been much surprised at seeing Simons relapsing into the pusillanimity he had betrayed in the first moments of our capture; but I was astonished to find that, with his grief for himself and the most bitter execrations on his folly, he bemoaned my hard fate in terms which I little expected from him. “Take courage,” said I, willing to relieve his sorrow, “you have nothing to reproach yourself with in this misfortune, and I am sorry, that your good intentions and zeal for my service have led you into this difficulty; but we may yet find the means of applying to the consul, or purchasing our freedom. Do not despair.” “I must,” replied he with a look of horror. “I have been a d——d rascal, and your destruction,my poor boy. If you were to forgive me, God never will; and this is only the beginning of my punishment.” He wept in agonies, and I was alarmed. “I can neither be useful to you, nor yet forgive you,” observed I, desisting from my ineffectual attempts to soothe his agitations, “’till I am more in your confidence. Tell me what have you done to injure me, and trust to my principles, which command me to forgive an offending brother.” “By G—d,” exclaimed he, “this is too much! I cannot bear it, villain as I am! But you shall know all; and you shall see that at least I never intended to harm you, though it is but too true that my business in your concerns was to serve myself.”