"Indeed, sir," answered she, "he was not." "How!" said Allworthy,
"to what then tends all this preface?" "To a story," said she,
"which I am concerned falls to my lot to unfold to you. O, sir!
prepare to hear something which will surprize you, will grieve you."
"Speak," said Allworthy, "I am conscious of no crime, and cannot be
afraid to hear." "Sir," said she, "that Mr. Summer, the son of your
friend, educated at your expense, who, after living a year in the
house as if he had been your own son, died there of the small-pox, was
tenderly lamented by you, ' and buried as if he had been your own;
that Summer, sir, was the father of this child." "How!" said
Allworthy; "you contradict yourself." "That I do not," answered she;
"he was indeed the father of this child, but not by me." "Take care,
madam," said Allworthy, "do not, to shun the imputation of any
crime, be guilty of falshood. Remember there is One from whom you
can conceal nothing, and before whose tribunal falshood will only
aggravate your guilt." "Indeed, sir," says she, "I am not his
mother; nor would I now think myself so for the world." "I know your
reason," said Allworthy "and shall rejoice as much as you to find it
otherwise; yet you must remember, you yourself confest it before
me." "So far what I confest," said she, "was true, that these hands
conveyed the infant to your bed; conveyed it thither at the command of
its mother; at her commands I afterwards owned it, and thought myself,
by her generosity, nobly rewarded, both for my secrecy and my
shame." "Who could this woman be?" said Allworthy. "Indeed, I
tremble to name her," answered Mrs. Waters. "By all this preparation I
am to guess that she was a relation of mine," cried he. "Indeed she
was a near one." At which words Allworthy started, and she
continued- "You had a sister, sir." "A sister!" repeated he, looking
aghast.- "As there is truth in heaven," cries she, "your sister was
the mother of that child you found between your sheets." "Can it be
possible?" cries he. "Good heavens!" "Have patience, sir," said Mrs.
Waters, "and I will unfold to you the whole story. Just after your
departure for London, Miss Bridget came one day to the house of my
mother. She was pleased to say, she had heard an extraordinary
character of me, for my learning and superior understanding to all the
young women there, so she was pleased to say. She then bid me come
to her to the great house; where, when I attended, she employed me
to read to her. She expressed great satisfaction in my reading, shewed
great kindness to me, and made me many presents. At last she began
to catechise me on the subject of secrecy, to which I gave her such
satisfactory answers, that, at last, having locked the door of her
room, she took me into her closet, and then locking that door
likewise, she said 'she should convince me of the vast reliance she
had on my integrity, by communicating a secret in which her honour,
and consequently her life, was concerned.' She then stopt, and after a
silence of a few minutes, during which she often wiped her eyes, she
inquired of me if I thought my mother might safely be confided in. I
answered, I would stake my life on her fidelity. She then imparted
to me the great secret which laboured in her breast, and which, I
believe, was delivered with more pains than she afterwards suffered in
childbirth. It was then contrived that my mother and myself only
should attend at the time, and that Mrs. Wilkins should be sent out of
the way, as she accordingly was, to the very furthest part of
Dorsetshire, to inquire the character of a servant; for the lady had
turned away her own maid near three months before; during all which
time I officiated about her person upon trial, as she said, though, as
she afterwards declared, I was not sufficiently handy for the place.
This, and many other such things which she used to say of me, were all
thrown out to prevent any suspicion which Wilkins might hereafter
have, when I was to own the child; for she thought it could never be
believed she would venture to hurt a young woman with whom she had
intrusted such a secret. You may be assured, sir, I was well paid
for all these affronts, which, together with being informed with the
occasion of them, very well contented me. Indeed, the lady had a
greater suspicion of Mrs. Wilkins than of any other person; not that
she had the least aversion to the gentlewoman, but she thought her
incapable of keeping a secret, especially from you, sir; for I have
often heard Miss Bridget say, that, if Mrs. Wilkins had committed a
murder, she believed she would acquaint you with it. At last the
expected day came, and Mrs. Wilkins, who had been kept a week in
readiness, and put off from time to time, upon some pretence or other,
that she might not return too soon, was dispatched. Then the child was
born, in the presence only of myself and my mother, and was by my
mother conveyed to her own house, where it was privately kept by her
till the evening of your return, when I, by the command of Miss
Bridget, conveyed it into the bed where you found it. And all
suspicions were afterwards laid asleep by the artful conduct of your
sister, in pretending ill-will to the boy, and that any regard she
shewed him was out of mere complacence to you."
Mrs. Waters then made many protestations of the truth of this story,
and concluded by saying, "Thus, sir, you have at last discovered
your nephew; for so I am sure you will hereafter think him, and I
question not but he will be both an honour and a comfort to you
under that appellation."
"I need not, madam," said Allworthy, "express my astonishment at
what you have told me; and yet surely you would not, and could not,
have put together so many circumstances to evidence an untruth. I
confess I recollect some passages relating to that Summer, which
formerly gave me a conceit that my sister had some liking to him. I
mentioned it to her; for I had such a regard to the young man, as well
on his own account as on his father's, that I should willingly have
consented to a match between them; but she exprest the highest disdain
of my unkind suspicion, as she called it; so that I never spoke more
on the subject. Good heavens! Well! the Lord disposeth all things.--
Yet sure it was a most unjustifiable conduct in my sister to carry
this secret with her out of the world." "I promise you, sir," said
Mrs. Waters, "she always profest a contrary intention, and frequently
told me she intended one day to communicate it to you. She said,
indeed, she was highly rejoiced that her plot had succeeded so well,
and that you had of your own accord taken such a fancy to the child,
that it was yet unnecessary to make any express declaration. Oh!
sir, had that lady lived to have seen this poor young man turned
like a vagabond from your house: nay, sir, could she have lived to
hear that you had yourself employed a lawyer to prosecute him for a
murder of which he was not guilty-- Forgive me, Mr. Allworthy, I must
say it was unkind. Indeed, you have been abused, he never deserved
it of you." "Indeed, madam," said Allworthy, "I have been abused by
the person, whoever he was, that told you so." "Nay, sir," said she,
"I would not be mistaken, I did not presume to say you were guilty
of any wrong. The gentleman who came to me proposed no such matter; he
only said, taking me for Mr. Fitzpatrick's wife, that, if Mr. Jones
had murdered my husband, I should be assisted with any money I
wanted to carry on the prosecution, by a very worthy gentleman, who,
he said, was well apprized what a villain I had to deal with. It was
by this man I found out who Mr. Jones was; and this man, whose name is
Dowling, Mr. Jones tells me is your steward. I discovered his name
by a very odd accident; for he himself refused to tell it me; but
Partridge, who met him at my lodgings the second time he came, knew
him formerly at Salisbury."
"And did this Mr. Dowling," says Allworthy, with great
astonishment in his countenance, "tell you that I would assist in
the prosecution?"-- "No, sir," answered she, "I will not charge him
wrongfully. He said I should be assisted, but he mentioned no name.
Yet you must pardon me, sir, if from circumstances I thought it
could be no other."-- "Indeed, madam," says Allworthy, "from
circumstances I am too well convinced it was another. Good Heaven! by
what wonderful means is the blackest and deepest villany sometimes
discovered!- Shall I beg you, madam, to stay till the person you have
mentioned comes, for I expect him every minute? nay, he may be,
perhaps, already in the house."
Allworthy then stept to the door, in order to call a servant, when
in came, not Mr. Dowling, but the gentleman who will be seen in the
next chapter.
Chapter 8
Further continuation
The gentleman who now arrived was no other than Mr. Western. He no
sooner saw Allworthy, than, without considering in the least the
presence of Mrs. Waters, he began to vociferate in the following
manner: "Fine doings at my house! A rare kettle of fish I have
discovered at last! who the devil would be plagued with a daughter?"
"What's the matter, neighbour?" said Allworthy. "Matter enough,"
answered Western: "when I thought she was just a coming to; nay,
when she had in a manner promised me to do as I would ha her, and when
I was a hoped to have had nothing more to do than to have sent for the
lawyer, and finished all; what do you think I have found out? that the
little b-- hath bin playing tricks with me all the while, and carrying
on a correspondence that bastard of yours. Sister Western, whom I have
quarrelled with upon her account, sent me word o't, and I ordered
her pockets to be searched when she was asleep, and here I have got un
signed with the son of a whore's own name. I have not had patience
to read half o't, for 'tis longer than one of parson Supple's sermons;
but I find plainly it is all about love; and indeed what should it
be else? I have packed her up in chamber again, and to-morrow morning
down she goes into the country, unless she consents to be married
directly, and there she shall live in a garret upon bread and water
all her days; and the sooner such a b-- breaks her heart the better,
though, d--n her, that I believe is too tough. She will live long
enough to plague me." "Mr. Western," answered Allworthy, "you know I
have always protested against force, and you yourself consented that
none should be used." "Ay," cries he, "that was only upon condition
that she would consent without. What the devil and doctor Faustus!
shan't I do what I will with my own daughter, especially when I desire
nothing but her own good?" "Well, neighbour," answered Allworthy,
"if you will give me leave, I will undertake once to argue with the
young lady." "Will you?" said Western; "why that is kind now, and
neighbourly, and mayhap you will do more than I have been able to do
with her; for I promise you she hath a very good opinion of you."
"Well, sir," said Allworthy, "if you will go home, and release the
young lady from her captivity, I will wait upon her within his
half-hour." "But suppose," said Western, "she should run away with
un in the meantime? For lawyer Dowling tells me there is no hopes of
hanging the fellow at last; for that the man is alive, and like to
do well, and that he thinks Jones will be out of prison again
presently." "How!" said Allworthy; "what, did you employ him then to
inquire or to do anything in that matter?" "Not I," answered
Western, "he mentioned it to me just now of his own accord." "Just
now!" cries Allworthy, "why, where did you see him then? I want much
to see Mr. Dowling." "Why, you may see un an you will presently at
my lodgings; for there is to be a meeting of lawyers there this
morning about a mortgage. 'Icod! I shall lose two or dree thousand
pounds, I believe, by that honest gentleman, Mr. Nightingale."
"Well, sir," said Allworthy, "I will be with you within the
half-hour." "And do for once," cries the squire, "take a fool's
advice; never think of dealing with her by gentle methods, take my
word for it, those will never do. I have tried 'um long enough. She
must be frightened into it, there is no other way. Tell her I'm her
father; and of the horrid sin of disobedience, and of the dreadful
punishment of it in t'other world, and then tell her about being
locked up all her life in a garret in this, and being kept only on
bread and water." "I will do all I can," said Allworthy; "for I
promise you there is nothing I wish for more than an alliance with
this amiable creature." "Nay, the girl is well enough for matter o'
that," cries the squire; "a man may go farther and meet with worse
meat; that I may declare o' her, thof she be my own daughter. And if
she will but be obedient to me, there is narrow a father within a
hundred miles o' the place, that loves a daughter better than I do;
but I see you are busy with the lady here, so I will go huome and
expect you; and so your humble servant."
As soon as Mr. Western was gone, Mrs. Waters said, "I see, sir,
the squire hath not the least remembrance of my face. I believe, Mr.
Allworthy, you would not have known me either. I am very
considerably altered since that day when you so kindly gave me that
