CHAPTER XVIWE ARE SO SORELY TRIED THAT WE FAIN HAVE RECOURSE TO OUR WITSHand-in-hand we trudged along valiantly. The rain came, at first a thin, hesitating haze, then with a quicker patter and a brisker resolution, which presently settled into a steady sullen all-night down-pour. We were very well shod, happily, and we drew our cloaks tightly about us, and turned our faces to the deluge. To pass the night in the open air in weather of this sort was impossible, but we were like to be in the predicament of that first evening out of London. Once more were we wholly ignorant of the way, were in great discomfort of body, and had no wherewithal by which we could relieve it. We were again called on to endure all the discomforts inseparable from our lot. The only sound from the great darkness that covered the land was the squish of the water under our feet, and the ceaseless twitter of the rain on the road. Although our clothes were a steaming burden, and clung about us in a sop, we tried not to be daunted. We pursued our way through mud and puddles, resisting the hunger and weariness that crept so insidiously upon us. And whatever the outward conditions of our state I don't think we minded greatly. The example of one another kept us from flagging, even as the possession of one another kept us from complaining.At last, having dragged our weary limbs up a steep hill, and having crested the brow, we saw all at once quite a number of lights gleaming below in the valley. It was plainly a considerable place, to judge by them; and though it was in our best interests to keep away from all towns and villages of any size and importance, on this occasion we did not pay much heed to these scruples, but went boldly and gladly towards it."But what shall we profit when we get there?" says Cynthia. "We have but a matter of sevenpence between us, which will avail us little enough for food and a lodging. And I am sure there will be nobody to be found who will extend their charity to such a pair of drenched beggars as we are. Oh, what can we possibly do!"I pondered on this hard problem for a full minute. Cynthia's gloomy views were hopelessly right. We were indeed a pair of beggars, homeless and destitute. But we could not walk about all through that wretched wet night on the open road. We must find some asylum for our weariness, if only a cow-hovel as it had been formerly. This night, however, put us in no mind for that kind of thing. We longed for the luxuries of a bright fire at which to dry our clothes, a warm supper at which to defeat the dismal weather, and a snug bed afterwards. But how could we make sevenpence go so far? Beat my brains as I might, I could find no solution to this hard problem. Yet we both yearned for these comforts so keenly, that at last we came to the resolve that we would obtain them by hook or by crook, if not by fair means, by those more desperate, and be hanged to the consequences! Accordingly, when we arrived at the first house in the place, I thrilled Cynthia by boldly knocking on the door, and thrilled her further by more boldly asking the title of the principal inn. As it bore the promising name of the Angel, and was less than half-a-mile along that very road, and was said to be a remarkably good inn, we were encouraged to push on in search of it."Oh, Jack," says poor Cynthia nervously, "whatever will the consequences be? It must be quite a public place; the landlord will certainly ask to see our money before he serves us, such a poor vagrant pair must we seem in the eyes of everybody; some of those horrid Bow Street runners may be there too, or possibly my father. And if we take that for which we are unable to pay, we may get sent to prison, or——""Put in the stocks," says I.Cynthia shuddered, and then laughed a little."I don't think," says she, "we shall ever fear that indignity again. At least we came triumphantly through that ordeal.""Merely by being bold," says I, "and the exercise of our sense of mirth. And that is what will be demanded of us in the adventure that is before us. Let us play our parts as bravely here, and I am convinced that we shall come out of it just as successfully. Let us be bold and take our courage in our hands, and I'll answer for it we'll get a supper, a fire, a bottle, and a bed, and no questions asked. But only a sufficient hardihood can do it, do you understand? We must not bear ourselves as a pair of beggars at this inn, but rather as persons of consideration and great place. You must be daughter to the duke, my prettiness, and I will be a devil of a peer.""That is all very fine, Jack," says Cynthia, who on occasion could be very shrewd, "but how are we to reconcile our lost and destitute state with our exalted degree?"A most happy idea," says I, suddenly seized with the same. "I have it exactly. We must be a pair of travellers who have been set on by a highwayman, turned out of our carriage, and robbed of all our money and valuables.""Yes," urged Cynthia, "but what carriage can we have to show?""We can provide for that too," says I, in the throes of invention. "Our servants were so affrighted at the highwayman's appearance, that they made off pell-mell, carriage and all, without once stopping to look behind them.""A not very plausible story," urged Cynthia again."I agree with you there," says I, "but we must strengthen any defects in our tale by the vigour and sincerity of its narration. We must play our parts at the very height of our ability, and the landlord, whoever he is, shall be put to it very hard to catch us tripping. A bold demeanour and a loud voice go a long way in these days. I can smell that supper already, and I feel my feet to be toasting before the warm blaze. And here we are to be sure under the very sign of the house, as goodly a country hostel i'faith as I ever saw, at which to arrive on a pouring wet night."Forsooth we were already come to the door. By its substantial, well-lit, comfortable look, and the space in front of it, it had the appearance of a coaching inn. And for that matter it did not call for much observation to prove such to be the case. It stood at the junction of four roads. The one that had carried us thither was a by-road, running at this point across one of the main coaching highways. When we discovered this to be the case we paused a moment. There was a degree of publicity about such a hostelry that we could have very well done without. We were certainly taking a great risk lest our enemies should enter it; and again, the charges were likely to be high. Yet it took only a brief reflection to decide us. We were utterly cold, hungry and jaded, our cloaks were soaked with rain, and the mud rose above our ankles. Therefore leaving discretion outside in the rain, we entered boldly.The chamber we found ourselves in was in singular and delightful contrast to the conditions from which we had emerged. It was brightly lit, a rare wood fire crackled and sputtered on the hearth, and threw its shadows on the oaken panellings. An incomparable smell of cookery pervaded it, and a table was laid for supper. The whole apartment was spotlessly clean, replete with comfort, and altogether was a model of what such a room should be in an inn of the better sort.The room had only one occupant; he, a gentleman who sat at his ease, waiting for his supper in a chair by the brisk fire. He was a wonderfully handsome man, young, bold-eyed, and with a look of gay impudence more winning than displeasing. He threw up his eyes as soon as we entered and frankly took our measure. He went over us from top to toe with the frank audacity of a pretty woman or a child. He was plainly a little puzzled by us. He could not reconcile our appearance with our address. We must indeed have looked to a stranger at that moment the most draggle-tailed couple that ever came out of Bridewell. But we had got all our best town airs about us too, and the contrast between our state and our address must have been ludicrous, truly.We had hardly got in to the room ere the landlord came bustling forward. His mode of assessing the character of his guests was more peremptory. We were in a wretched plight, and had come afoot without baggage and unattended. He gave us one shrewd contemptuous glance and says:"You are come to the wrong house, are you not, master? The Chequers, a bit further along the road to your left, is more in your style, I'm thinking. The quality comes to this house, dy'e see?""God bless my soul," I roared, "was there ever such effrontery! Why, you pot-bellied ruffian, I would knock you down as flat as your own ale were it not for fatigue and the presence of a lady. The wrong house, is it? Do you take us for a pair of pickers and stealers then, you beer-barrel! Call a chambermaid this minute and have her ladyship taken to the best bedroom you have got in the place, or I will rub my boots into the small of your fat back, upon mine honour so I will."A less forcible method of address might have permitted of a controversy, in which we should have everything to lose and nothing whatever to gain. But this fine assault, this taking of the landlord by storm, completely disarmed him. In an instant his demeanour completely changed, as is usual with those of his kidney. From the contemptuous critic he was transformed into the grovelling lackey. On the instant he was ours to command. With many bows and congees he was soon inquiring what we would have for supper, and which wine we would prefer. He also presumed that our luggage and attendants would presently arrive."Devil a bit of it," says I. "Neither one nor the other will you see this night. Our wretched rogues have had such a fright that I will bet my leg they never draw rein until they make the blessed town o' London. A murrain upon them, and may they die of a vertigo!"The landlord clasped his palms in a fine attitude of humility, curiosity and awe."Lord save us!" says he, "what can have happened to your lordship?""Why, something that is always happening to us, of course," says I, with a great air of a glib matter of fact. "One of these pestilential highwaymen stopped us and tried us on this very road, not five miles off. Cocked his ugly mug through the carriage-window as cool as a church, and had us step out of our cushions into the pouring rain. Took our money and jewels off us before you could say your prayers. And not content with all this, burn me for a heretick! if out of pure wantonness this villain did not discharge his barker across the nose of the leader, and away they flew downhill to the devil before we could jump in again. They are miles away ere this, and lord knows how we shall contrive to return to town."I suppose there must have been a nice tone of verisimilitude in this tissue of lies, or a ring of truth in my tone, or an expression of perfect veracity in my eyes, for the landlord put never another question to us upon that matter, but accepted my heart-moving tale with a mien of deep solicitude. I think I must be unusually gifted in this particular, since this bold story worked on his credulity to such a remarkable degree. And either our supposed misadventures or my command of great oaths must have invested us in the landlord's mind with the indisputable evidences of high quality, for his obeisances grew profounder for the recital, and though by our own confession we had not a penny about us with which to requite him, he proposed to entertain us to the utmost of his capacity."Your lordship and your ladyship will doubtless prefer an entirely private apartment in which to sup," says he. "If you will very kindly bear with this one while a fire is lighted in another, I will go about it at once, and also prepare you as good a meal as it is in the power of this poor place to furnish."However, as I was rather taken than otherwise with the appearance of the solitary occupant of this room, and even more so by the rare warmth and comfort of it, I was fain to suggest that if our company was not disagreeable to the present occupant, we should be well content to stay where we were, and take our supper in his society. And, indeed, the frank, amused, wonderfully naïve countenance he turned on the innkeeper, and the air of perfect good-breeding with which he asked the honour of our company at his table, promised excellent companionship to follow. I having gratefully accepted his offer, he very politely insisted that I should choose the wine, adding that our host kept a very tolerable cellar, and paid a particular compliment to the Burgundy.In a variety of amiable ways we were very well advanced in a companionship long before supper was served. Our friend, in addition to his handsome looks and elegant manners, appeared to have a good deal of knowledge of the world. His tastes, too, seemed extremely refined. He was well versed in Dryden, Virgil, and Shakespeare, and passed the highest encomiums on the genius of Mr. Henry Fielding. He contributed some excellently apposite remarks to the long-standing controversy respecting the merits of the author ofTom Jonesin comparison with those of the author ofClarissa. To my extreme gratification he declared strongly for the former, whereon Mrs. Cynthia, following the fashion of her sex, took up the cudgels very warmly for the latter."My dear madam," says our friend, laughing in his musical tones, "the difference between those two authors is that between honest, searching brandy punch and tea twice watered with a good deal of sugar in it.""That is doubtless the case," says Cynthia. "But whereas the one may degrade a man to the level of a beast,"—I will do her the justice of saying she laid no particular stress on this simile, neither did she look at me, greatly to my relief—"the other is perfectly harmless, wholesome and stimulating. Mr. Richardson's morality hath never been impeached, but Mr. Fielding's hath never been defended.""It is not always the person who lifts up his voice the loudest, madam, who is the most worthy to be heard," says our friend gravely. "Nor is it he who makes the best parade of his virtue who is invariably the most valuable member of society. I dare say Mr. Fielding would blush as much to be found out in a good act as Mr. Richardson would to be caught in a bad one; but for all that I would prefer to recommend myself to the author of the so-called loose and scandalousTom Jones, than he of the so-called high-tonedClarissa, were I in need of a dinner and a guinea.""Sir," says I, "you have put the gist of the matter excellently. You are one of the very few persons I have met who hath had the wit to draw this essential distinction between the characters of two such diverse writers. What the world is for ever failing to apprehend is that true morality, like true religion, has nothing to do with the profession of it; and that man who as often as not best serves his species is he who least pretends to do so."Yet no sooner had I ventured to confirm the wisdom of my friend with my own opinion, than my dear Mrs. Cynthia began to take my interference as a personal matter aimed at her rather than at the argument. Thus in a truly feminine fashion she got upon her dignity and invested her championship of Mr. Richardson, and more especially her animadversion of Mr. Fielding, with several palpable references to my recent behaviour in his company. At least the unease of my conscience put this construction upon her replies, although when I reflected upon the matter afterwards I could find no grounds except those of my own guilty knowledge for supposing that she was at all acquainted with our meeting.It was a real relief none the less when our heated discourse on morality was at last interrupted by the arrival of the first dish, a highly delectable loin of pork flanked with sage and onions. We sat down in much comfort and did ample justice to the fare. Our friend's manners at the table had all the elegance of good-breeding, whilst his conversation under the benign influences of excellent dishes and good wine was as entertaining and various as any one need listen to. He was at a loss on no subject whatever; and there was such an easy air of gallantry about him, too, as commended him extremely to the susceptible Cynthia, however they might differ in their opinions on the subject of morality. Indeed his mien was so winning and so perfectly acceptable withal to her ladyship, that I could have wished he had less of those graces to recommend him. For I'll swear that her eyes shone to his speeches, and there was a fine colour in her cheeks, however indignantly she may be moved to deny it. There was a sly humour in the fellow too, which as the meal wore on and the excellence of the fare warmed his heart, he manifested in various ways. To start with, he made more than one allusion to our supposed misfortune. What kind of a person was the highwayman, he asked in a tone equally pregnant with mischief and concern."Oh, pretty tallish," says I, with admirable vagueness and promptitude.Thereupon he put a vast number of questions all bearing on the appearance of our assailant. Had he a cast in his eye? a scar on his lip? Did he speak with a west country burr? and so forth. These were but a few. For strive as we would to turn the topic towards something that might disconcert us less, he persisted in returning again and again to our supposed adventure on the road. The theme seemed to have a kind of fascination for him. At last it grew too plain that his pertinacity had serious purpose behind it. Either my fencing grew too obvious or his queries grew too direct, for I was presently led to see that he had formed his own opinion on the matter, and that he proposed to convict us out of our own mouths. It was with an effort therefore that I retained my politeness, since the deeper one is in the wrong the more is one inclined to resent its being proved against one."I should be obliged, sir," says I, "if you will do us the favour of forgetting this unfortunate circumstance. We have already come to regard our property as lost, and having made up our minds upon that we cease to regret it. Indeed, we had already dismissed so trivial a matter from our minds, and should not have thought fit to recall it, had not the predicament of our penury, and the obstinate importunities of this fellow the landlord, compelled us to allude to it again. You will vastly oblige me, sir, by ceasing to mention it.""You are very well schooled in the art of evasion, sir," says the other. "But I am much too greatly interested in this affair to consent to its stopping at this. The manner of the appearance of your adorable companion and yourself here in this place this evening perplexes and surprises me beyond measure. I humbly crave your pardon if I may seem to transgress the bounds of good taste, sir, but might I venture to ask whether you were coming from London or were you going there?""Going there," says I incautiously."Then I confess," says he smoothly, "my perplexity increases. If you were going to London, how could it happen that you were descending, instead of mounting Marling Hill?"I plainly saw that the fellow had lured me into a trap."Really, sir," says I, with some show of heat, "I am sorry that you cannot see fit to respect my protests. You will do me a real service, sir, if you will cease to pursue this disagreeable subject.""I do not doubt you on that last point, sir," says the other. "And I wonder if I might make so bold as to inquire how it befalls that two persons who are presumably of the first quality, or at least of great gentility, are to be found travelling the country in an attire that the meanest of their servants would think twice before they affected?""This is insufferable, this is intolerable," says I. "I decline peremptorily to answer such questions. They are impertinent, sir, impertinent; and it grieves me to think that a gentleman of your taste and discretion could have thought fit to put them."However, my annoyance could restrain him no better than my persuasion. He laughed openly, and then suddenly cast off the veil. With a curl at his lips, and an unmistakable impudence in his eyes, says he:"I think the time is come, sir, when we might with profit understand one another a little better. Might we not deal a little more frankly with one another, do you not think? For instance, if you are prepared to confess that you have been beset by no highwayman whatever, and the whole invention of him, the coach, the valuables, the servants, and the horses is a cock-and-bull story intended to divert the attention of our honest host from your destitute condition, I am just as prepared to accept that statement.""Sir," says I, "I fear that you forget yourself. You insult me wantonly."However difficult it may be to condone the truth when it is so unblushingly expressed, I was hardly in a position to punish him for the publication of it. Not that it was any sneaking respect for the truth that restrained me. It was rather that I had arrived at years of a certain discretion. Was there not everything in the world to lose and nothing whatever to gain by indulging in open passages with a total stranger? Cynthia was at my side, and wholly dependent upon me. And it was her presence and that thought which enabled me to keep so tight a rein on my furious inclination. Meanwhile this person had turned such a cool impudent scrutiny upon me that it seemed as though he calmly spelt out every phase of thought through which I was at that moment passing.
Hand-in-hand we trudged along valiantly. The rain came, at first a thin, hesitating haze, then with a quicker patter and a brisker resolution, which presently settled into a steady sullen all-night down-pour. We were very well shod, happily, and we drew our cloaks tightly about us, and turned our faces to the deluge. To pass the night in the open air in weather of this sort was impossible, but we were like to be in the predicament of that first evening out of London. Once more were we wholly ignorant of the way, were in great discomfort of body, and had no wherewithal by which we could relieve it. We were again called on to endure all the discomforts inseparable from our lot. The only sound from the great darkness that covered the land was the squish of the water under our feet, and the ceaseless twitter of the rain on the road. Although our clothes were a steaming burden, and clung about us in a sop, we tried not to be daunted. We pursued our way through mud and puddles, resisting the hunger and weariness that crept so insidiously upon us. And whatever the outward conditions of our state I don't think we minded greatly. The example of one another kept us from flagging, even as the possession of one another kept us from complaining.
At last, having dragged our weary limbs up a steep hill, and having crested the brow, we saw all at once quite a number of lights gleaming below in the valley. It was plainly a considerable place, to judge by them; and though it was in our best interests to keep away from all towns and villages of any size and importance, on this occasion we did not pay much heed to these scruples, but went boldly and gladly towards it.
"But what shall we profit when we get there?" says Cynthia. "We have but a matter of sevenpence between us, which will avail us little enough for food and a lodging. And I am sure there will be nobody to be found who will extend their charity to such a pair of drenched beggars as we are. Oh, what can we possibly do!"
I pondered on this hard problem for a full minute. Cynthia's gloomy views were hopelessly right. We were indeed a pair of beggars, homeless and destitute. But we could not walk about all through that wretched wet night on the open road. We must find some asylum for our weariness, if only a cow-hovel as it had been formerly. This night, however, put us in no mind for that kind of thing. We longed for the luxuries of a bright fire at which to dry our clothes, a warm supper at which to defeat the dismal weather, and a snug bed afterwards. But how could we make sevenpence go so far? Beat my brains as I might, I could find no solution to this hard problem. Yet we both yearned for these comforts so keenly, that at last we came to the resolve that we would obtain them by hook or by crook, if not by fair means, by those more desperate, and be hanged to the consequences! Accordingly, when we arrived at the first house in the place, I thrilled Cynthia by boldly knocking on the door, and thrilled her further by more boldly asking the title of the principal inn. As it bore the promising name of the Angel, and was less than half-a-mile along that very road, and was said to be a remarkably good inn, we were encouraged to push on in search of it.
"Oh, Jack," says poor Cynthia nervously, "whatever will the consequences be? It must be quite a public place; the landlord will certainly ask to see our money before he serves us, such a poor vagrant pair must we seem in the eyes of everybody; some of those horrid Bow Street runners may be there too, or possibly my father. And if we take that for which we are unable to pay, we may get sent to prison, or——"
"Put in the stocks," says I.
Cynthia shuddered, and then laughed a little.
"I don't think," says she, "we shall ever fear that indignity again. At least we came triumphantly through that ordeal."
"Merely by being bold," says I, "and the exercise of our sense of mirth. And that is what will be demanded of us in the adventure that is before us. Let us play our parts as bravely here, and I am convinced that we shall come out of it just as successfully. Let us be bold and take our courage in our hands, and I'll answer for it we'll get a supper, a fire, a bottle, and a bed, and no questions asked. But only a sufficient hardihood can do it, do you understand? We must not bear ourselves as a pair of beggars at this inn, but rather as persons of consideration and great place. You must be daughter to the duke, my prettiness, and I will be a devil of a peer."
"That is all very fine, Jack," says Cynthia, who on occasion could be very shrewd, "but how are we to reconcile our lost and destitute state with our exalted degree?
"A most happy idea," says I, suddenly seized with the same. "I have it exactly. We must be a pair of travellers who have been set on by a highwayman, turned out of our carriage, and robbed of all our money and valuables."
"Yes," urged Cynthia, "but what carriage can we have to show?"
"We can provide for that too," says I, in the throes of invention. "Our servants were so affrighted at the highwayman's appearance, that they made off pell-mell, carriage and all, without once stopping to look behind them."
"A not very plausible story," urged Cynthia again.
"I agree with you there," says I, "but we must strengthen any defects in our tale by the vigour and sincerity of its narration. We must play our parts at the very height of our ability, and the landlord, whoever he is, shall be put to it very hard to catch us tripping. A bold demeanour and a loud voice go a long way in these days. I can smell that supper already, and I feel my feet to be toasting before the warm blaze. And here we are to be sure under the very sign of the house, as goodly a country hostel i'faith as I ever saw, at which to arrive on a pouring wet night."
Forsooth we were already come to the door. By its substantial, well-lit, comfortable look, and the space in front of it, it had the appearance of a coaching inn. And for that matter it did not call for much observation to prove such to be the case. It stood at the junction of four roads. The one that had carried us thither was a by-road, running at this point across one of the main coaching highways. When we discovered this to be the case we paused a moment. There was a degree of publicity about such a hostelry that we could have very well done without. We were certainly taking a great risk lest our enemies should enter it; and again, the charges were likely to be high. Yet it took only a brief reflection to decide us. We were utterly cold, hungry and jaded, our cloaks were soaked with rain, and the mud rose above our ankles. Therefore leaving discretion outside in the rain, we entered boldly.
The chamber we found ourselves in was in singular and delightful contrast to the conditions from which we had emerged. It was brightly lit, a rare wood fire crackled and sputtered on the hearth, and threw its shadows on the oaken panellings. An incomparable smell of cookery pervaded it, and a table was laid for supper. The whole apartment was spotlessly clean, replete with comfort, and altogether was a model of what such a room should be in an inn of the better sort.
The room had only one occupant; he, a gentleman who sat at his ease, waiting for his supper in a chair by the brisk fire. He was a wonderfully handsome man, young, bold-eyed, and with a look of gay impudence more winning than displeasing. He threw up his eyes as soon as we entered and frankly took our measure. He went over us from top to toe with the frank audacity of a pretty woman or a child. He was plainly a little puzzled by us. He could not reconcile our appearance with our address. We must indeed have looked to a stranger at that moment the most draggle-tailed couple that ever came out of Bridewell. But we had got all our best town airs about us too, and the contrast between our state and our address must have been ludicrous, truly.
We had hardly got in to the room ere the landlord came bustling forward. His mode of assessing the character of his guests was more peremptory. We were in a wretched plight, and had come afoot without baggage and unattended. He gave us one shrewd contemptuous glance and says:
"You are come to the wrong house, are you not, master? The Chequers, a bit further along the road to your left, is more in your style, I'm thinking. The quality comes to this house, dy'e see?"
"God bless my soul," I roared, "was there ever such effrontery! Why, you pot-bellied ruffian, I would knock you down as flat as your own ale were it not for fatigue and the presence of a lady. The wrong house, is it? Do you take us for a pair of pickers and stealers then, you beer-barrel! Call a chambermaid this minute and have her ladyship taken to the best bedroom you have got in the place, or I will rub my boots into the small of your fat back, upon mine honour so I will."
A less forcible method of address might have permitted of a controversy, in which we should have everything to lose and nothing whatever to gain. But this fine assault, this taking of the landlord by storm, completely disarmed him. In an instant his demeanour completely changed, as is usual with those of his kidney. From the contemptuous critic he was transformed into the grovelling lackey. On the instant he was ours to command. With many bows and congees he was soon inquiring what we would have for supper, and which wine we would prefer. He also presumed that our luggage and attendants would presently arrive.
"Devil a bit of it," says I. "Neither one nor the other will you see this night. Our wretched rogues have had such a fright that I will bet my leg they never draw rein until they make the blessed town o' London. A murrain upon them, and may they die of a vertigo!"
The landlord clasped his palms in a fine attitude of humility, curiosity and awe.
"Lord save us!" says he, "what can have happened to your lordship?"
"Why, something that is always happening to us, of course," says I, with a great air of a glib matter of fact. "One of these pestilential highwaymen stopped us and tried us on this very road, not five miles off. Cocked his ugly mug through the carriage-window as cool as a church, and had us step out of our cushions into the pouring rain. Took our money and jewels off us before you could say your prayers. And not content with all this, burn me for a heretick! if out of pure wantonness this villain did not discharge his barker across the nose of the leader, and away they flew downhill to the devil before we could jump in again. They are miles away ere this, and lord knows how we shall contrive to return to town."
I suppose there must have been a nice tone of verisimilitude in this tissue of lies, or a ring of truth in my tone, or an expression of perfect veracity in my eyes, for the landlord put never another question to us upon that matter, but accepted my heart-moving tale with a mien of deep solicitude. I think I must be unusually gifted in this particular, since this bold story worked on his credulity to such a remarkable degree. And either our supposed misadventures or my command of great oaths must have invested us in the landlord's mind with the indisputable evidences of high quality, for his obeisances grew profounder for the recital, and though by our own confession we had not a penny about us with which to requite him, he proposed to entertain us to the utmost of his capacity.
"Your lordship and your ladyship will doubtless prefer an entirely private apartment in which to sup," says he. "If you will very kindly bear with this one while a fire is lighted in another, I will go about it at once, and also prepare you as good a meal as it is in the power of this poor place to furnish."
However, as I was rather taken than otherwise with the appearance of the solitary occupant of this room, and even more so by the rare warmth and comfort of it, I was fain to suggest that if our company was not disagreeable to the present occupant, we should be well content to stay where we were, and take our supper in his society. And, indeed, the frank, amused, wonderfully naïve countenance he turned on the innkeeper, and the air of perfect good-breeding with which he asked the honour of our company at his table, promised excellent companionship to follow. I having gratefully accepted his offer, he very politely insisted that I should choose the wine, adding that our host kept a very tolerable cellar, and paid a particular compliment to the Burgundy.
In a variety of amiable ways we were very well advanced in a companionship long before supper was served. Our friend, in addition to his handsome looks and elegant manners, appeared to have a good deal of knowledge of the world. His tastes, too, seemed extremely refined. He was well versed in Dryden, Virgil, and Shakespeare, and passed the highest encomiums on the genius of Mr. Henry Fielding. He contributed some excellently apposite remarks to the long-standing controversy respecting the merits of the author ofTom Jonesin comparison with those of the author ofClarissa. To my extreme gratification he declared strongly for the former, whereon Mrs. Cynthia, following the fashion of her sex, took up the cudgels very warmly for the latter.
"My dear madam," says our friend, laughing in his musical tones, "the difference between those two authors is that between honest, searching brandy punch and tea twice watered with a good deal of sugar in it."
"That is doubtless the case," says Cynthia. "But whereas the one may degrade a man to the level of a beast,"—I will do her the justice of saying she laid no particular stress on this simile, neither did she look at me, greatly to my relief—"the other is perfectly harmless, wholesome and stimulating. Mr. Richardson's morality hath never been impeached, but Mr. Fielding's hath never been defended."
"It is not always the person who lifts up his voice the loudest, madam, who is the most worthy to be heard," says our friend gravely. "Nor is it he who makes the best parade of his virtue who is invariably the most valuable member of society. I dare say Mr. Fielding would blush as much to be found out in a good act as Mr. Richardson would to be caught in a bad one; but for all that I would prefer to recommend myself to the author of the so-called loose and scandalousTom Jones, than he of the so-called high-tonedClarissa, were I in need of a dinner and a guinea."
"Sir," says I, "you have put the gist of the matter excellently. You are one of the very few persons I have met who hath had the wit to draw this essential distinction between the characters of two such diverse writers. What the world is for ever failing to apprehend is that true morality, like true religion, has nothing to do with the profession of it; and that man who as often as not best serves his species is he who least pretends to do so."
Yet no sooner had I ventured to confirm the wisdom of my friend with my own opinion, than my dear Mrs. Cynthia began to take my interference as a personal matter aimed at her rather than at the argument. Thus in a truly feminine fashion she got upon her dignity and invested her championship of Mr. Richardson, and more especially her animadversion of Mr. Fielding, with several palpable references to my recent behaviour in his company. At least the unease of my conscience put this construction upon her replies, although when I reflected upon the matter afterwards I could find no grounds except those of my own guilty knowledge for supposing that she was at all acquainted with our meeting.
It was a real relief none the less when our heated discourse on morality was at last interrupted by the arrival of the first dish, a highly delectable loin of pork flanked with sage and onions. We sat down in much comfort and did ample justice to the fare. Our friend's manners at the table had all the elegance of good-breeding, whilst his conversation under the benign influences of excellent dishes and good wine was as entertaining and various as any one need listen to. He was at a loss on no subject whatever; and there was such an easy air of gallantry about him, too, as commended him extremely to the susceptible Cynthia, however they might differ in their opinions on the subject of morality. Indeed his mien was so winning and so perfectly acceptable withal to her ladyship, that I could have wished he had less of those graces to recommend him. For I'll swear that her eyes shone to his speeches, and there was a fine colour in her cheeks, however indignantly she may be moved to deny it. There was a sly humour in the fellow too, which as the meal wore on and the excellence of the fare warmed his heart, he manifested in various ways. To start with, he made more than one allusion to our supposed misfortune. What kind of a person was the highwayman, he asked in a tone equally pregnant with mischief and concern.
"Oh, pretty tallish," says I, with admirable vagueness and promptitude.
Thereupon he put a vast number of questions all bearing on the appearance of our assailant. Had he a cast in his eye? a scar on his lip? Did he speak with a west country burr? and so forth. These were but a few. For strive as we would to turn the topic towards something that might disconcert us less, he persisted in returning again and again to our supposed adventure on the road. The theme seemed to have a kind of fascination for him. At last it grew too plain that his pertinacity had serious purpose behind it. Either my fencing grew too obvious or his queries grew too direct, for I was presently led to see that he had formed his own opinion on the matter, and that he proposed to convict us out of our own mouths. It was with an effort therefore that I retained my politeness, since the deeper one is in the wrong the more is one inclined to resent its being proved against one.
"I should be obliged, sir," says I, "if you will do us the favour of forgetting this unfortunate circumstance. We have already come to regard our property as lost, and having made up our minds upon that we cease to regret it. Indeed, we had already dismissed so trivial a matter from our minds, and should not have thought fit to recall it, had not the predicament of our penury, and the obstinate importunities of this fellow the landlord, compelled us to allude to it again. You will vastly oblige me, sir, by ceasing to mention it."
"You are very well schooled in the art of evasion, sir," says the other. "But I am much too greatly interested in this affair to consent to its stopping at this. The manner of the appearance of your adorable companion and yourself here in this place this evening perplexes and surprises me beyond measure. I humbly crave your pardon if I may seem to transgress the bounds of good taste, sir, but might I venture to ask whether you were coming from London or were you going there?"
"Going there," says I incautiously.
"Then I confess," says he smoothly, "my perplexity increases. If you were going to London, how could it happen that you were descending, instead of mounting Marling Hill?"
I plainly saw that the fellow had lured me into a trap.
"Really, sir," says I, with some show of heat, "I am sorry that you cannot see fit to respect my protests. You will do me a real service, sir, if you will cease to pursue this disagreeable subject."
"I do not doubt you on that last point, sir," says the other. "And I wonder if I might make so bold as to inquire how it befalls that two persons who are presumably of the first quality, or at least of great gentility, are to be found travelling the country in an attire that the meanest of their servants would think twice before they affected?"
"This is insufferable, this is intolerable," says I. "I decline peremptorily to answer such questions. They are impertinent, sir, impertinent; and it grieves me to think that a gentleman of your taste and discretion could have thought fit to put them."
However, my annoyance could restrain him no better than my persuasion. He laughed openly, and then suddenly cast off the veil. With a curl at his lips, and an unmistakable impudence in his eyes, says he:
"I think the time is come, sir, when we might with profit understand one another a little better. Might we not deal a little more frankly with one another, do you not think? For instance, if you are prepared to confess that you have been beset by no highwayman whatever, and the whole invention of him, the coach, the valuables, the servants, and the horses is a cock-and-bull story intended to divert the attention of our honest host from your destitute condition, I am just as prepared to accept that statement."
"Sir," says I, "I fear that you forget yourself. You insult me wantonly."
However difficult it may be to condone the truth when it is so unblushingly expressed, I was hardly in a position to punish him for the publication of it. Not that it was any sneaking respect for the truth that restrained me. It was rather that I had arrived at years of a certain discretion. Was there not everything in the world to lose and nothing whatever to gain by indulging in open passages with a total stranger? Cynthia was at my side, and wholly dependent upon me. And it was her presence and that thought which enabled me to keep so tight a rein on my furious inclination. Meanwhile this person had turned such a cool impudent scrutiny upon me that it seemed as though he calmly spelt out every phase of thought through which I was at that moment passing.