Kitabı oku: «Secresy; or, Ruin on the Rock», sayfa 13

LETTER XVI
FROM CLEMENT MONTGOMERY TO ARTHUR MURDEN

I write again and again to you, Arthur, and you remain silent. Yet a fate so various as mine makes even communication enjoyment. Various, did I say? no, it was but my apprehensions that were various. The fate was certain, established beyond the reach of change. Mr. Valmont ever designed to make me his heir, and designs it still. Yesterday brought me a welcome letter, and a more welcome remittance. 'I am known to be your protector, Clement,' says Mr. Valmont in his letter; 'and it is necessary for my honour that you should preserve a degree of consequence among men. Moreover, money is the master key to the confidence of men. Use it as such. Gratify their wants, real or artificial; and they, in return, will soon display the sordidness the ingratitude of their hearts.' Precious doctrines, these! And, Arthur, I being wiser than the sender, have dismissed them, to keep their fellow maxims company in a close shut drawer in my secretary, where they shall rest in peace until I turn snarling cynic also.

But the intimation, Arthur! – the cash, Arthur! I have not hoarded those in a drawer! you hear that it is necessary for Mr. Valmont's honor that I preserve consequence among men. Ah! dear Sir! leave me ever thus to the support of your honor among men! I will not complain though you preserve wholly to yourself the felicity of being locked within the walls of Valmont's castle! I yield the building, and am content alone to aim at preserving your honour and dignity with the valued produce of its rich acres.

This is the first time that Mr. Valmont's letters to me have failed to mention Sibella. Heaven avert the omen, if it be one! Yet surely, for Miss Ashburn advised and I commanded, surely she will be silent. Murden, 'twas one of the blind mistakes of fortune that Sibella and I should love each other, directly in the teeth of Mr. Valmont's designs, and both so absolutely within his power. Heigh-ho! I have been just taking a view of her picture. – What a divine face! Some day I will make another copy of this miniature. The hair, beautiful as it is, falls too forward, and hides the exquisite turn of her neck. How can I endure to conceal the greater beauty, and display the less! Ah! Should those lips, lips promising eternal sweets, ever move to the destruction of my hopes, should they betray me to Mr. Valmont, then Arthur, must they never again give joy to mine; for, however Sibella's wild energy might inspire me, while reclined at the foot of a tree, to vow this and to promise that of fortitude and forbearance, here, in the centre of delights, I feel that Sibella is as much a dreamer as her uncle. A thousand wants occur, that I knew not in her arms – wants which possibly her refinements might call artificial; yet, to me, is their gratification so endeared, as to become necessary to my existence. Sooner would I quit life, than live unknown and unknowing. Misled by the power of beauty, methought Sibella spoke oracles while she talked to me of contentment and independence. Whither might not the thraldom of her enslaving charms have led me! 'twas wonderful I escaped ruin! Wonderful that I had strength to persevere in opposing her intent of declaring to her uncle the secret of that contract which crowned me with happiness, while it laid the foundation of a world of fears. Could you see her, and could you taste the enticements of her caresses, you would wonder too. Heavens! how will my happy years roll on, should I become securely the inheritor of the Valmont estates, for then will I reward my fairest, then will I make her my wife! Oh, that I could find some magic spell to charm her to silence, to deaden in her the memory of the past, so that I might peaceably enjoy the present without torturing apprehensions to assail me of Mr. Valmont's discoveries, of Mr. Valmont's resentments!

But enough of the name of Valmont. Faith, Murden, my thoughts are never so near the castle as when I write to you; and the reason is plain – I fly to my pen only when a cessation from pleasure threatens me with lassitude; and to such a cause, I am frank enough to tell you, you owe this my letter.

It is now one hour past noon, and I went to bed at nine this morning. My limbs acknowledged a most unusual portion of weariness; but the gay shadows of the night's diversions flitted before me in tumultuous rotation. I had moments of insensibility on my pillow, but not of rest; and, after making a vain attempt of two hours to find sleep, I rose and ordered my breakfast. A thought of writing to you succeeded, for tempestuous weather will not let me ride, and haggard looks forbid me to visit.

Mrs. Ashburn's fortune must be immense; and, on my soul, I adore her spirit. She does not suffer time to steal by her unnoticed; nor wealth to sleep in her possession. I believe her very dreams are occupied in forming variety of pleasures. Their succession is endless and perpetual.

Yesterday and last night, I made one of a brilliant crowd of visitors who thronged to Mrs. Ashburn's. Her new house was purposely prepared for this occasion; and no ornament that taste could devise and wealth approve was wanting to render it complete in elegant splendour. – A suite of rich apartments were yesterday morning thrown open for the reception of near 300 persons. It was a breakfast worthy to be recorded among the enchantments of a Persian tale; and every mouth was filled with applause; and still would the breakfast and concert have been the universal theme, had not the more novel and splendid entertainment of the evening deservedly claimed the superior praise.

Mrs. Ashburn's cards had also invited the company of the morning to a masqued ball for the night. The masques began to assemble about eleven. Mrs. Ashburn had laid her commands on me not to appear till I judged the company would be assembled. No small tribute this her command to the vanity of your friend, Arthur. She had chosen my habit. She had added to it some brilliant ornaments. I will be honest enough to confess that to the utmost it displayed my advantages of person, and Mrs. Ashburn believed the effect of the whole would be striking. I represented a winged Mercury. My habit of pale blue sattin was fastened close around me with loops, buttons, and tassels of orient pearls, these, amounting to a value I dare hardly guess at, Mrs. Ashburn absolutely forced upon me for the occasion.

Thus resplendent I joined the throng. Buzzing whispers of —the Mercury! the Mercury! Splendid! charming! &c. &c. ran round the walls; but, if the Mercury excited their astonishment, his own surprise and delight was doubly triply excited by the enchantments which seemed to take his senses prisoner. Methought in the morning I had quitted a palace. What name then could I devise to express the fanciful grandeur of the present scene? Every thing was new. Such dispositions had been made that the form of the apartments appeared changed. How the pillars, lights, music, refreshments were disposed, you may amuse yourself, if taste will so far aid you, in imagining. As for me, I have no power of description; my brain whirls from one dazzling object to another, and leaves me but an indistinct crowded recollection of the various beauties.

Mrs. Ashburn was unmasked. Janetta Laundy had shone a bright star of the morning, but what cloud had now dimmed her rays I could not with the best of my endeavours discover. I detected the Dutchess de D – ; and essayed to gain some tidings of the recreant star, but she laughed me off without a tittle of information.

Suddenly the bands of music make an abrupt pause. Every one looks round, silent, and surprised. A pair of folding doors fly open. Streams of light burst upon the eye. The rich perfumes of the east pour forth their fragrance to the sense. The altar of taste appears, raised like a throne at the upper end of the temple. Rows of silvered cupids present offerings, and point to the goddess, who presides at her own altar.

I knew her form well: 'twas worthy of the goddess. Her robe fell gracefully behind, loose from her shape, which a white vest sprinkled with golden stars admirably fitted. Her plumes waved high over a coronet, of budding myrtle and the half blown rose. Her cestus glittered of the diamond. Diamond clasps confined the fulness of her robe sleeves a little above the elbow, and her fine arm borrowed no ornament beyond its own inestimable fairness. In short, Arthur, who could look on unmoved. 'Twas Mrs. Ashburn's triumph of wealth, but Janetta Laundy's uncontrollable triumph of beauty. I have many times wondered by what charm Janetta could arrive at such unbounded influence over her benefactress, for certainly Mrs. Ashburn has a plentiful share of vanity, and is ever aiming to excite admiration. How then can she forgive the youth and charms of her companion?

In vain Janetta last night assumed a double portion of that cold haughtiness of demeanour with which she now receives my advances to familiarity. She personated the goddess of taste; and men would pay their loud and daring homage to the divinity. Mrs. Ashburn became piqued. She spoke pettishly to Janetta, and endeavoured to disperse her admirers. At length she beckoned me from a distant seat, to which I had retired somewhat fatigued and dispirited, and delivered the goddess to my protection.

We danced together. We did not separate during the rest of the entertainment. 'This is as it used to be,' whispered the Dutchess de N – coming up to the sopha on which we sat. 'But you, Chevalier, are so faithless,' added she.

'Oh,' said I, fixing my eyes on Janetta, 'your Grace misplaces that accusation! I am constancy itself. You ladies, indeed, who know the power of your charms, are not to be satisfied with the homage of a single lover.'

'Your insinuation, sir,' replied Janetta, 'is easily understood; and if I am happy enough to escape interruption from the company, I shall take the present opportunity of freeing myself from your charges. The Dutchess will condescend to aid me. I believe Mr. Montgomery will scarcely doubt of the testimony of the Dutchess de N – .'

'Ah,' replied the Dutchess, 'defend me from lovers' quarrels! For heaven's sake, my dear, do you suppose that you engross all the charms of to-night, and that poor I have no better employment than to shake my head, look grave, and bear a solemn burden to your serious speeches. Tell the story yourself, child; and, if the Chevalier can look on your face and mistrust you, make him a gay curtsy and follow me, my dear, into yonder circle.'

When the Dutchess was gone, Janetta relapsed into her reserve; and, had I not become extremely urgent, would have deferred the explanation.

Yes, indeed, Arthur, I have wronged her most shamefully in my suspicions, but the story is too long for me to relate in my present record. I drag through one heavy sentence after another, intending that each shall be the last. Now, having by this effort brought on an increase of weariness, I'll e'en try what repose a couch will afford me; and then away to Mrs. Ashburn and Janetta.

CLEMENT MONTGOMERY

LETTER XVII
FROM LORD FILMAR TO SIR WALTER BOYER

Say, dear Sir Walter, to which of the gods shall my hecatomb blaze a burnt offering? Behold, entering within those gates, I see the Valmont coach! – I fly to greet the welcome visitants – more welcome to me than gold to the miser, than conquest to the warrior. – Lie still, thou throbbing mischief, down, down, ye struggling expectations! And let the for once spiritless countenance of Filmar conceal his hopes.

Tis true, Boyer, as – as – as any thing that's most true. Here, in this very Monkton Hall, is Mr. Valmont, ay, and Mrs. Valmont too; and here I mean to keep them: – only to-morrow though. – To-morrow! Walter! – Hail the dawn of to morrow! – Whips cracking, horses flying, and thy friend driving as fast as four can carry him into 6000l. a-year!

If you want cash, call on me any day next week. You, being a particular friend, I'll oblige. But to any one else – Somerville now for instance or Nugent – 'It will be curst unfortunate, but I shall have had a hard run of late – or, I shall be building, and want to borrow myself – or, there will be great arrears on my estates not yet paid up.' – But see, here comes a bowing cringing tradesman, who in my days of worse fortune has buffeted me with his purse-proud looks many a time and often. 'Really Mr. – a – a – the amount of your bill seems a little enormous, but I can't fatigue myself with looking into these matters – the steward pays you, – Ay, ay, be not troublesome, and (throwing myself along the sopha) I may probably still deal with you. – Sibella, my dear, raise these cushions under my head – Psha, child, you are devilishly awkward – there – . Pooh! – throw that gauze shade of your's over me. – Sit down, and watch, lest Ponto or Rosetta should leap upon or disturb me.'

By the bye, Walter, as I am determined to reform when I'm married, and become an obedient hopeful son and nephew, if uncle Valmont should think (and pray heaven he may) my wife's —

Oh, lord, what a shudder! – There! 'tis a radical cure, I assure you. – I seized a square piece of paper; and, writing thereon in large characters 6000l. per annum, placed it exactly opposite me, and the qualm vanished. – Walter, you shall see wife written on my page —my wife!– Oh, I declare this scrap of paper is a charm of infinite value! —

If uncle Valmont, I say, should deem my wife's education incomplete, and desires to have her longer under his tuition, I will yield her up for one year, or two, or twenty, if he pleases. – There's forbearance, there's magnanimity! Dub me a hero, sir knight! and place me among the foremost! – Talk of conquering a world, indeed! Why philosophers of all ages have agreed that the truest heroism is to conquer self. – Dub me a hero, I say!

I grant you, this is all rattle (that is the manner not the matter, upon my honor), and poor forced rattle too; but I must be mad, for I cannot be merry, nor yet serious. My gadding spirits are whirling this enterprise round and round without ceasing. Sometimes tossing the dark side toward me; and then, ere I can make one retracting reflection, smilingly presenting to me its advantages. – At that still time of night (if my plan fail not) when graves yield up the semblance of their dead, my courtship is to begin. – Once begun, it must go on; and the second setting sun beholds me a bridegroom. – Close your door, Boyer; stir up your fire; and I'll tell you. – Not now though, for – enter Griffiths.

'The gentlemen have walked out to the grounds, my lord. Mrs. Valmont and Lady Monkton are alone.'

'Right Griffiths, I understand your hint.'

'My Lord, it will certainly take,' returning shrugging his shoulders and laughing. 'The butler hates squire Valmont, and enjoys the thought of playing him such a trick. The lads will have to strip and turn out to-morrow, I doubt not, for this day's frolic.'

'Then, I must provide for them! 'Tis our frolic, and not theirs, Griffiths. 'Should our plain fail – '

'It cannot fail, my lord,'

'Well, well – go – mind you give me more water than wine at dinner.'

And now, I steal from a back door, make a circuit round the house, and crossing the lawn join the dear good kind informing souls in the drawing room. – You shall hear from me again presently, Walter.

I am gone, in reputation I mean, to seek the earl, the baronet, and the simple squire, but, in propria persona, returned to my chamber to tell you a story – a story of stories. The ladies were in the very heart of it when I entered. Luckily, I had waited a sentence or two outside the door, or I should have had no clue to bespeak a continuance of the subject. Mrs. Valmont was suspicious of me, but having persuaded her than I am a sober sort of youth, not at all given to hard-heartedness and infidelity, she proceeded, and I had the good fortune to listen with wondering eyes and gaping mouth to the particular account of how, where, and when, Miss Valmont (my wife that is to be) saw a – ghost. – Stay, let me recollect – a ghost, is I believe a terrific animal, dressed in chains, howling, shrieking, and always withdrawing in a flash of fire; yes, that's a ghost. This was something more gentle and complacent. Mrs. Valmont makes nice distinctions. I remember she called it an apparition, of a spirit – first appearing in the shape of an old hermit – then in that of a young handsome beau – first walking, manlike, into a wood – next bouncing up, fiend-like, on a sudden in an armoury. – Ay, it was a spirit Sibella saw. – She, poor little barbarian, is no better acquainted with the qualities of an apparition than of a man; for, simply enough, she complained to Mrs. Valmont of the disturbance given by this said shifting phantom to her meditations.

'To be sure, Lady Monkton,' said Mrs. Valmont, 'one must laugh at most of these stories; but we all know from good authority such things have been seen. Indeed, I did not altogether credit the very extraordinary accounts I had heard of the disturbance, the Valmont family had many years ago received from some thing that they say inhabits the Ruin on the Rock; and even when my niece, who, in such affairs is ignorance itself, told me her story, I would not be convinced till I had sent three men servants to search the wood and the Ruin. If any thing human had been there, it must have been discovered. The affair of the armoury I only mentioned to my own woman, for I well knew it was impossible that any substance of flesh and blood out of our own household could get into the armoury. What can be said Lady Monkton, but that it is to answer some wise purpose or other?

'Does, Mr. Valmont know?' said I.

'Surely, Lord Filmar, you must judge poorly of my discretion, to suppose that I would tell Mr. Valmont such an affair; for, besides that there is a shocking degree of impiety in people's disbelief when the thing is indisputably true, he would torment the servants incessantly, by sending them at night into those places, and perhaps he might abridge the poor child of her rambles around the park.'

'Isn't Miss Valmont afraid of being alone?' asked Lady Monkton.

'Afraid! – Ha! ha! ha! – why, she has not one idea, Lady Monkton, belonging to a rational being I assure you: She is not afraid of any thing. Well, really her want of understanding is not at all marvellous. Shut up in that horrid abode. – I preserve a part of mine, only by reflecting on former days.'

'The young lady's conversation, then, is not much relief to you, Madam?' said I.

'No, indeed, 'tis her absence is the relief, my lord. Mr. Valmont was much more kind than he intended, when he ordered his niece not to frequent my apartments. – It is a thousand pities; for the child has a fine person, and is – that is, had she any thing like manners, and were not such an absolute idiot, I do think she would be very handsome, &c. &c. &c.'

Some frolic of master Clement Montgomery's, I presume this apparition to be, Walter. Yet, surely she is not idiot enough to tell of herself in such a case! – Ha! – woman! woman still! whether in solitude or society! – I well remember the fellow I saw tripping near Valmont's moat. – Yes, yes. He – Montgomery contrives to find secret admittance into that well defended place; and she contrives a rare finely imagined tale to turn the people's wits the seamy-side without, and throw a veil impervious as darkness around themselves and their pleasures. – Yet, hang it! – no! – Montgomery, said Mrs. Valmont, was abroad on his travels when this affair happened. Beside, there is a degree of invention in the story which must have been beyond the capacity of so ignorant a girl. – Heyday! – Why I am anticipating eight and forty hours, and already beginning to feel myself accountable for my wife's adventures!

Peace be, then, to the apparition's ashes! – After the knot is tied, and I and my bride are travelling homewards to receive forgiveness and golden blessings, I shall probably want something to keep me awake, and the child must tell me the story in her own way.

Hark! – the dinner bell. – My part in the plot will soon commence. – Be content, Walter, to trace it in its several progressive steps toward the catastrophe. I have not patience to detail what is to be, and then sit down to relate what is. – Adieu, for a few hours. So far, so good. – Nay, better than good, the very elements have conspired to my success. – Such a storm of hail, rain, and thunder, I never beheld at this season of the year. The darkness was tremendous, and Mrs. Valmont's shattered nerves felt its effects most powerfully, notwithstanding the pompous harangue delivered by her caro sposo against such terrors. – In the midst of this scene entered Mr. Valmont's gentleman; who, bowing reverently, in a low tone of voice begged to know if his lordly master would vouchsafe to be drawn home by one pair of horses, (he came, Walter with six) for that unfortunately the postilion was very drunk.

'Drunk!' exclaimed Mr. Valmont. 'Did you say, drunk?'

The man bowed and looked sorry; then ventured slowly to insinuate that he did not deem the coachman perfectly sober, though not absolutely drunk. He might be able to drive a pair of horses perhaps.

'I shall have my neck broken,' cried Mrs. Valmont, 'then all my sorrows will be at an end together; and you, sir, may be for once satisfied.'

'Madam! What mean you?' said the frowning dignitary.

The remedy was obvious. To remain at Monkton Hall for the night was proposed to Mr. Valmont with great earnestness by Sir Gilbert and my lady; and, at length, acceded to by him with due reluctant solemnity. – Mrs. Valmont smiled through her terrors.

To you, Walter, I give a sober straight forward history; but, in the opinions of my friends below stairs, I am fast approaching towards the honours which the squire's postilion and coachman have already purchased. I affected to grow very frolicksome, early after dinner; and am, at length, become, with the help of claret and burgundy, as properly intoxicated to all appearance as I find necessary to the carrying on of my plan. However, I am not yet retired for the night: – presently, I mean to descend, and give them such another specimen of my ability as shall make my departure so essential to their repose, that they will not attempt to recal or disturb me.

A messenger, Boyer, is gone to the castle, to give notice of its master's absence for the night. He carries other tidings there also: – tidings to me of great joy.

The servants of Valmont castle are held in such constraint by their proud master, that to enjoy the pleasures which are permitted in other households they are ever scheming. The squire's absence is a festive holiday; and Griffiths was invited by the butler, with whom he has purposely scraped an intimacy, to partake of the joy of to day. Why the invitation was neglected you may divine. By the messenger now sent to the castle, Griffiths informs the butler that, as Mr. Valmont is safe at the hall, and Lord Filmar is safe in bed, the night is their own. He begs they will prepare for mirth and gaiety, bids the housekeeper and her damsels put on their dancing shoes, and promises to join them early, accompanied by his brother, who plays an excellent fiddle, and is the merriest fellow alive.

Such is the substance of Griffiths' message to the domestics. Doubt them not, Walter; they will jump at the opportunity, and swallow my bait with all the greediness I can desire.

It is now past nine. My pulse begins to beat riotously, as if I were drunk in earnest. – Poor undiscerning souls! – I have looked in the glass, Boyer. – All the uncertainty of my success trembles in my eye – all the tumult of hopes and fears sits on my countenance: – yet these animals cannot perceive it. – Would it were over!

The scene is almost prepared to shift. I am dismissed from the parlour; and, as Griffiths tells them, am at rest. Now, I wait but his summons. He is gone to hint among the servants here the advantage he is about to take of his master's infirmity, and hypocritically to request some one will make an excuse for him should I by chance awake and ring my bell before he returns. – The coast securely clear, I quit the house; join Griffiths at the lodge; and, at the corner of a little town, only a quarter of a mile from Sir Gilbert's, we are to find Griffiths' brother waiting in a chaise. This brother, who would not have been here if we hadn't sent for him, was only a common footman a week ago, but the two days he has passed at the inn in our neighbourhood has transformed him into a man of property; and he does not choose to go four miles in the rain without a covered carriage. Had it not rained, he would probably have received a sprain in his ancle, or his knee. The grand business over, for which his assistance is required, he puts on the Filmar livery, and becomes my footman. I was going to say my wife's, but there's hazard in that. Gratitude may beget love; and violently grateful will she be, no doubt, to the man that has helped to make – her fortune. – Walter, I am no coward: yet, I say again, would it were over!

I will put this paper in my pocket. – Should I get undetected into the castle, I shall have many hours of waiting; and to write my thoughts will certainly relieve me during the tedious interval.

I hear Griffiths' signal. – I come. – Adieu. – Safe in the castle! – 'Tis just eleven o'clock. – Two will be the earliest I dare attempt to seize my prize. – Three hours! three ages, I may say, to undergo all the misery of expecting, in every blast of wind, the destruction of my project! – Wind enough! – how it rolls! – Floods of rain too! – A horrid and tempestuous night, this! – We must procure some covering, to shield her from the storm till we reach the chaise. I will mention it to Griffiths, that he may be quite in readiness. I should be sorry were she to suffer by the storm's inclemency. Does she go unwillingly, she suffers enough in going; goes she willingly, still she deserves not to suffer. – Why, thou cold whining Filmar, where is thy manhood? – Only the last stroke wanting, and that the easiest to accomplish, and thy scheme – thy darling scheme is – perfect. – Thy very valet claps the wings of exultation, and sings the song of triumph! Shame! shame! Rouse thyself! cast a look forward, Filmar! —

Yes, Walter, I am here happily supplied with a lighted taper by the dexterity and contrivance of Griffiths. – Securely stationed in one of the best apartments where even the mirth of the servants cannot reach me in a buzzing murmur, there is no hazard that any one of them should quit his diversions to wander among the mazy recesses of this mansion; and I do rejoice abundantly in my security. – Yet, Walter, I may rejoice, and feel the benumbing effects of this cold gloomy dwellings, too. – These old buildings are admirably contrived to fix odd impressions on the mind. – I do not at all wonder that every ancient castle is haunted in report. – Another such night, in another such place, and I could swear I perceived shapeless forms gliding around me. – I listen one minute to the variety of sound produced by the gathering winds; and, the next, find it hushed to so dead a calm, that the sound of my breathings alone interrupts the silence. Such – think of it, think of it, Walter – such are my employments!

I wonder whereabouts this armoury lays. Griffiths could tell. – The castle is amazing large, yet Griffiths is perfectly skilled in its geography. – He described to me, as we came hither, the situation of Miss Valmont's apartments. – They are nearer to where I am now stationed than to any other habitable part of the building.

The spacious gallery into which this room opens, runs the length of the whole front, excepting the wings and the towers. Narrow long passages connect the wings with the main building; and the passage nearest my side of the gallery, conducts you by a short flight of steps immediately up to Miss Valmont's abode. But this is not the road we are to take, because in a little room within that passage sleeps her attendant, silent Andrew; and we choose not to pass so near him, lest perhaps these resounding walls tell him of our footsteps. – Our's is a more intricate path. The adjoining antichamber will lead us to a narrower stair-case; descending this, we shall cross some of the lower apartments; and, making a circuit, gain the bottom of the West Tower; from whence, alleys and winding stone stairs will introduce us to the end of Miss Valmont's gallery, opposite to that we must have entered had we gone in the straight forward direction. We deem it advisable to descend with our charge the same way, and to leave the castle by a little door in the West Tower. It is, to be sure, on the wrong side, and will oblige us to carry our burthen, if the young lady should not be disposed just then to make use of her limbs, so much the further.

Griffiths' brother is a strong, bony, dark-looking fellow. Strength will be necessary, if persuasion should fail; and I cannot spare more than ten minutes to try the effects of my rhetoric. I will enter first; and, should a shriek of surprise or shriek of rapture (remember my person, Walter) escape her, the closed doors, distance of situation, and sleep of security, will prevent Andrew from hearing. Indeed, should he, mal-a-propos, interfere, it is only the extra trouble of binding him to good behaviour. It did once enter my thoughts to bribe this old fellow to our purposes, but the attempt might have wrought a discovery. Fearing nothing, he suspects nothing; absence of all care and a warm night-cap lull him to repose: – and pleasant be his dreams. – Ours all the hazard! Ours the reward! I have promised 500l. to Griffiths, and 100l. to his brother. My share of the plunder is to them a secret.

Now, though I allow the damsel one squall, yet I positively interdict any repetitions of the sort; and as, you know, I immediately became the arbiter of her fate, the sooner I accustom her to implicit obedience, the easier it will be to both in future.