to travel thus about the country; for possibly he may do some
mischief. It is a pity he was not secured and sent home to his
relations."
Now some conceits of this kind were likewise lurking in the mind
of Partridge; for, as he was now persuaded that Jones had run away
from Mr. Allworthy, he promised himself the highest rewards if he
could by any means convey him back. But fear of Jones, of whose
fierceness and strength he had seen, and indeed felt, some
instances, had however represented any such scheme as impossible to be
executed, and had discouraged him from applying himself to form any
regular plan for the purpose. But no sooner did he hear the sentiments
of the exciseman, than he embraced that opportunity of declaring his
own, and expressed a hearty wish that such a matter could be brought
about.
"Could be brought about!" says the exciseman: "why, there is nothing
easier."
"Ah! sir," answered Partridge, "you don't know what a devil of a
fellow he is. He can take me up with one hand, and throw me out at
window; and he would, too, if he did but imagine-"
"Pogh!" says the exciseman, "I believe I am as good a man as he.
Besides, here are five of us."
"I don't know what five," cries the landlady, my husband shall
have nothing to do in it. Nor shall any violent hands be laid upon
anybody in my house. The young gentleman is as pretty a young
gentleman as ever I saw in my life, and I believe he is no more mad
than any of us. What do you tell of his having a wild look with his
eyes? they are the prettiest eyes I ever saw, and he hath the
prettiest look with them; and a very modest civil young man he is. I
am sure I have bepitied him heartily ever since the gentleman there in
the corner told us he was crost in love. Certainly that is enough to
make any man, especially such a sweet young gentleman as he is, to
look a little otherwise than he did before. Lady, indeed! what the
devil would the lady have better than such a handsome man with a great
estate? I suppose she is one of your quality folks, one of your Townly
ladies that we saw last night in the puppet-show, who don't know
what they would be at."
The attorney's clerk likewise declared he would have no concern in
the business without the advice of counsel. "Suppose," says he, "an
action of false imprisonment should be brought against us, what
defence could we make? Who knows what may be sufficient evidence of
madness to a jury? But I only speak upon my own account; for it
don't look well for a lawyer to be concerned in these matters,
unless it be as a lawyer. Juries are always less favourable to us than
to other people. I don't therefore dissuade you, Mr. Thomson (to the
exciseman), nor the gentleman, nor anybody else."
The exciseman shook his head at this speech, and the puppet-show man
said, "Madness was sometimes a difficult matter for a jury to
decide: for I remember," says he, "I was once present at a tryal of
madness, where twenty witnesses swore that the person was as mad as
a March hare; and twenty others, that he was as much in his senses
as any man in England.- And indeed it was the opinion of most people,
that it was only a trick of his relations to rob the poor man of his
right."
"Very likely!" cries the landlady. "I myself knew a poor gentleman
who was kept in a mad-house all his life by his family, and they
enjoyed his estate, but it them no good; for though the law gave it
them, it was the right of another."
"Pogh!" cries the clerk, with great contempt, "who hath any right
but what the law gives them? If the law gave me the best estate in the
country, I should never trouble myself much who had the right."
"If it be so," says Partridge, "Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula
cautum."*
*Happy he whom dangers make wary.
My landlord, who had been called out by the arrival of a horseman at
the gate, now returned into the kitchen, and with an affrighted
countenance cried out, "What do you think, gentlemen? The rebels
have given the duke the slip, and are got almost to London. It is
certainly true, for a man on horseback just now told me so."
"I am glad of it with all my heart," cries Partridge; "then there
will be no fighting in these parts."
"I am glad," cries the clerk, "for a better reason; for I would
always have right take place."
"Ay, but," answered the landlord, "I have heard some people say this
man no right."
"I will prove the contrary in a moment," cries the clerk: "if my
father dies seized of a right; do you mind me, seized of a right, I
say; doth not that right descend to his son; and doth not one right
descend as well as another?"
"But how can he have any right to make us papishes?" says the
landlord.
"Never fear that," cries Partridge. "As to the matter of right,
the gentleman there hath proved it as clear as the sun; and as to
the matter of religion, it is quite out of the case. The papists
themselves don't expect any such thing. A popish priest, whom I know
very well, and who is a very honest man, told me upon his word and
honour they had no such design."
"And another priest, of my acquaintance," said the landlady, "hath
told me the same thing; but my husband is always so afraid of
papishes. I know a great many papishes that are very honest sort of
people, and spend their money very freely; and it is always a maxim
with me, that one man's money is as good as another's."
"Very true, mistress," said the puppet-show man, "I don't care
what religion comes; provided the Presbyterians are not uppermost; for
they are enemies to puppet-shows."
"And so you would sacrifice your religion to your interest," cries
the exciseman; "and are desirous to see popery brought in, are you?"
"Not I, truly," answered the other; "I hate popery as much any
man; but yet it is a comfort to one, that one should be able to live
under it, which I could not do among Presbyterians. To be sure,
every man values his livelihood first; that must be granted; and I
warrant, if you would confess the truth, you are more afraid of losing
your place than anything else; but never fear, friend, there will be
an excise under another government as well as under this."
"Why, certainly," replied the exciseman, "I should be a very ill man
if I did not honour the king, whose bread I eat. That is no more
than natural, as a man may say: for what signifies it to me that there
would be an excise office under another government, since my friends
would be out, and I could expect no better than to follow them? No,
no, friend, I shall never be bubbled out of my religion in hopes
only of keeping my place under another government; for I should
certainly be no better, and very probably might be worse."
"Why, that is what I say," cries the landlord, "whenever folks say
who knows what may happen! Odsooks! should not I be a blockhead to
lend my money to I know not who, because mayhap he may return it
again? I am sure it is safe in my own bureau, and there I will keep
it."
The attorney's clerk had taken a great fancy to the sagacity of
Partridge. Whether this proceeded from the great discernment which the
former had into men, as well as things, or whether it arose from the
sympathy between their minds; for they were both truly Jacobites in
principle; they now shook hands heartily, and drank bumpers of
strong beer to healths which we think proper to bury in oblivion.
These healths were afterwards pledged by all present, and even by my
landlord himself, though reluctantly; but he could not withstand the
menaces of the clerk, who swore he would never set his foot within his
house again, if he refused. The bumpers which were swallowed on this
occasion soon put an end to the conversation. Here, therefore, we will
put an end to the chapter.
Chapter 8
In which fortune seems to have been in a better humour with Jones
than we have hitherto seen her
As there is no wholesomer, so perhaps there are few stronger,
sleeping potions than fatigue. Of this Jones might be said to have
taken a very large dose, and it operated very forcibly upon him. He
had already slept nine hours, and might perhaps have slept longer, had
he not been awakened by a most violent noise at his chamber-door,
where the sound of many heavy blows was accompanied with many
exclamations of murder. Jones presently leapt from his bed, where he
found the master of the puppet-show belabouring the back and ribs of
his poor Merry-Andrew, without either mercy or moderation.
Jones instantly interposed on behalf of the suffering party, and
pinned the insulting conqueror up to the wall: for the puppet-show man
was no more able to contend with Jones, than the poor party-coloured
jester had been to contend with this puppet-man.
But though the Merry-Andrew was a little fellow, and not very
strong, he had nevertheless some choler about him. He therefore no
sooner found himself delivered from the enemy, than he began to attack
him with the only weapon at which he was his equal. From this he first
discharged a volley of general abusive words, and thence proceeded
to some particular accusations- "D--n your bl--d, you rascal," says
he, "I have not only supported you (for to me you owe all the money
you get), but I have saved you from the gallows. Did you not want to
rob the lady of her fine riding-habit, no longer ago than yesterday,
in the back-lane here? Can you deny that you wished to have her alone
in a wood to strip her- to strip one of the prettiest ladies that
ever was seen in the world? and here you have fallen upon me, and have
almost murdered me, for doing no harm to a girl as willing as
myself, only because she likes me better than you."
Jones no sooner heard this than he quitted the master, laying on him
at the same time the most violent injunctions of forbearance from
any further insult on the Merry-Andrew; and then taking the poor
wretch with into his own apartment, he soon learned tidings of his
Sophia, whom the fellow, as he was attending his master with his
drum the day before, had seen pass by. He easily prevailed with the
lad to show him the exact place, and then having summoned Partridge,
he departed with the utmost expedition.
It was almost eight of the clock before all matters could be got
ready for his departure: for Partridge was not in any haste, nor could
the reckoning be presently adjusted; and when both these were
settled and over, Jones would not quit the place before he had
perfectly reconciled all differences between the master and the man.
When this was happily accomplished, he set forwards, and was by
the trusty Merry-Andrew conducted to the spot by which Sophia had
past; and then having handsomely rewarded his conductor, he again
pushed on with the utmost eagerness, being highly delighted with the
extraordinary manner in which he received his intelligence. Of this
Partridge was no sooner acquainted, than he, with great earnestness,
began to prophesy, and assured Jones that he would certainly have good
success in the end: for, he said, "two such accidents could never have
happened to direct him after his mistress, if Providence had not
designed to bring them together at last." And this was the first
time that Jones lent any attention to the superstitious doctrines of
his companion.
They had not gone above two miles when a violent storm of rain
overtook them; and, as they happened to be at the same time in sight
of an ale-house, Partridge, with much earnest entreaty, prevailed with
Jones to enter, and weather the storm. Hunger is an enemy (if indeed
it may be called one) which partakes more of the English than of the
French disposition; for, though you subdue this never so often, it
will always rally again in time; and so it did with Partridge, who was
no sooner arrived within the kitchen, than he began to ask the same
questions which he had asked the night before. The consequence of this
was an excellent cold chine being produced upon the table, upon
which not only Partridge, but Jones himself, made a very hearty
breakfast, though the latter began to grow again uneasy, as the people
of the house could give him no fresh information concerning Sophia.
Their meal being over, Jones was again preparing to sally,
notwithstanding the violence of the storm still continued; but
Partridge begged heartily for another mug; and at last casting his
eyes on a lad at the fire, who had entered into the kitchen, and who
at that instant was looking as earnestly at him, he turned suddenly to
Jones, and cried, "Master, give me your hand, a single mug shan't
serve the turn this bout. Why, here's more news of Madam Sophia come
to town. The boy there standing by the fire is the very lad that
rode before her. I can swear to my own plaister on his face."-
"Heavens bless you, sir," cries the boy, "it is your own plaister sure
enough; I shall have always reason to remember your goodness; for it
hath almost cured me."
At these words Jones started from his chair, and, bidding the boy
follow him immediately, departed from the kitchen into a private
apartment; for, so delicate was he with regard to Sophia, that he
never willingly mentioned her name in the presence of many people;
and, though he had, as it were, from the overflowings of his heart,
given Sophia as a toast among the officers, where he thought it was
impossible she should be known; yet, even there, the reader may
remember how difficultly he was prevailed upon to mention her sirname.
Hard, therefore, was it, and perhaps, in the opinion of many
