Chapter 30
Happier Prospects Begin to Appear-Let Us Be Inflexible and Fortune Will at Last Change in Our Favor
WHEN I had thus finished, and my audience
was retired the gaoler, who was one of the most humane of his profession.
hoped I would not be displeased, as what he did was but
his duty, observing that he must be obliged to remove my son into a
stronger cell, but that he should be permitted to revisit
me every morning. I thanked him for his clemency, and grasping my
boy's hand bade him farewell, and be mindful of the great
duty that was before him.
I again, therefore, laid me down, and one
of my little ones sat by my bedside reading, when Mr. Jenkinson entering,
informed
me that there was news of my daughter; for that she was
seen by a person about two hours before in a strange gentleman's
company, and that they had stopped at a neighboring village
for refreshments, and seemed as if returning to town. He had
scarcely delivered this news when the gaoler came with
looks of haste and pleasure to inform me that my daughter was found.
Moses came running in
a moment after, crying out that his sister was below, and coming up with our old friend Mr. Burchell.
Just as he delivered this news my dearest
girl entered, and with looks almost wild with pleasure, ran to kiss me
in a transport
of affection. Her mother's tears and silence also showed
her pleasure. "Here, papa," cried the charming girl, "Here is the brave
man to whom I owe my delivery; to this gentleman's intrepidity
I am indebted for my happiness and safety." A kiss from Mr.
Burchell, whose pleasure seemed even greater than hers,
interrupted what she was going to add.
"Ah, Mr. Burchell," cried I, "this is but
a wretched habitation you now find us in; and we are now very different
from what
you last saw us. You were ever our friend; we have long
discovered our errors with regard to you, and repented of our
ingratitude. After the vile usage you then received at
my hands, I am almost ashamed to behold your face; yet I hope you'll
forgive me, as I was deceived by a base, ungenerous wretch,
who, under the mask of friendship, has undone me. "
"It is impossible," replied Mr. Burchell,
"that I should forgive you, as you never deserved my resentment. I partly
saw your
delusion then, and as it was out of my power to restrain,
I could only pity it."
"It was ever my conjecture," cried I, "that
your mind was noble; but now I find it so. But tell me,
my dear child, how hast thou been relieved, or who the ruffians were who carried thee away?"
"Indeed, sir," replied she, "as to the villain
who carried me off I am yet ignorant. For as my mamma and I were walking
out,
he came behind us and almost before I could call for
help, forced me into the postchaise, and in an instant the horses drove
away. I met several on the road, to whom I cried out
for assistance, but they disregarded my entreaties. In the meantime, the
ruffian himself used every art to hinder me from crying
out: he flattered and threatened by turns, and swore that if I continued
but silent he intended no harm. In the meantime, I had
broken the canvas that he had drawn up, and whom should I perceive at
some distance but your old friend Mr. Burchell, walking
along with his usual swiftness, with the great stick for which we used
so
much to ridicule him. As soon as we came within hearing,
I called out to him by name and entreated his help. I repeated my
exclamation several times, upon which, with a very loud
voice, he bid the postilion stop; but the boy took no notice, but drove
on with still greater speed. I now thought he could never
overtake us, when in less than a minute I saw Mr. Burchell come
running up by the side of the horses, and with one blow
knock the postilion to the ground. The horses, when he was fallen,
soon stopped of themselves and the ruffian stepping out
with oaths and menaces drew his sword and ordered him at his
peril to retire; but Mr. Burchell, running up, shivered
his sword to pieces, and then pursued him for near a quarter of a mile;
but
he made his escape. I was at this time come out myself,
willing to assist my deliverer; but he soon returned to me in triumph.
The postilion, who was recovered, was going to make his
escape too; but Mr. Burchell ordered him at his peril to mount again
and drive back to town. Finding it impossible to resist,
he reluctantly complied, though the wound he had received seemed to
me at least to be dangerous. He continued to complain
of the pain as we drove along, so that he at last excited Mr. Burchell's
compassion, who at my request exchanged him for another
at an inn where we called on our return."
"Welcome, then," cried I, "my child, and
thou, her gallant deliverer, a thousand welcomes! Though our cheer is but
wretched,
yet our hearts are ready to receive you. And now, Mr.
Burchell, as you have delivered my girl, if you think her a recompense
she is yours; if you can stoop to an alliance with a
family so poor as mine, take her, obtain her consent, as I know you have
her
heart, and you have mine. And let me tell you, sir, that
I give you no small treasure; she has been celebrated for beauty, it is
true, but that is not my meaning: I give you up a treasure
in her mind."
"But I suppose, sir," cried Mr. Burchell,
"that you are apprized of my circumstances, and of my incapacity to support
her as
she deserves?"
"If your present objection," replied I, "be
meant as an evasion of my offer, I desist; but I know no man so worthy
to deserve
her as you; and if I could give her thousands, and thousands
sought her from me, yet my honest, brave Burchell should be my
dearest choice. "
To all this his silence alone seemed to give
a mortifying refusal, and, without the least reply to my offer, he demanded
if we
could not be furnished with refreshments from the next
inn; to which being answered in the affirmative, he ordered them to send
in the best dinner that could be provided upon such short
notice. He bespoke also a dozen of their best wine, and some
cordials for me; adding, with a smile, that he would
stretch a little for once, and though in a prison, asserted he was never
better
disposed to be merry. The waiter soon made his appearance
with preparations for dinner, a table was lent us by the gaoler,
who seemed remarkably assiduous, the wine was disposed
in order, and two very well-dressed dishes were brought in.
My daughter had not yet heard of her poor
brother's melancholy situation, and we all seemed unwilling to damp her
cheerfulness by the relation. But it was in vain that
I attempted to appear cheerful; the circumstances of my unfortunate son
broke through all efforts to dissemble; so that I was
at last obliged to damp our mirth by relating his misfortunes, and wishing
that he might be permitted to share with us in
this little interval of satisfaction. After my guests
were recovered from the consternation my account had produced, I requested
also that Mr. Jenkinson, a fellowprisoner, might be admitted,
and the gaoler granted my request with an air of unusual
submission. The clanking of my son's irons was no sooner
heard along the passage, than his sister ran impatiently to meet him;
while Mr. Burchell, in the meantime, asked me if my son's
name were George; to which replying in the affirmative, he still
continued silent. As soon as my boy entered the room,
I could perceive he regarded Mr. Burchell with a look of astonishment
and reverence.
"Come on," cried I, "my son, though we are
fallen very low, yet Providence has been pleased to grant us some small
relaxation from pain. Thy sister is restored to us, and
there is her deliverer; to that brave man it is that I am indebted for
yet
having a daughter; give him, my boy, the hand of friendship;
he deserves our warmest gratitude."
My son seemed all this while regardless of what I said, and still continued fixed at a respectful distance.
"My dear brother," cried his sister, "why don't you thank my good deliverer? The brave should ever love each other."
He still continued his silence and astonishment,
till our guest at last perceived himself to be known, and assuming all
his native
dignity, desired my son to come forward. Never before
bad I seen any thing so truly
majestic as the air he assumed upon this occasion. The
greatest object in the universe, says a certain philoso
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Illustration absent.
pher, is a good man struggling with adversity; yet there
is still a greater, which is the good man that comes to relieve it. After
he
had regarded my son for
some time with a superior air, "I again find," said he,
"unthinking boy, that the same crime" But here he was interrupted by one
of the gaoler's servants, who came to inform us that
a person of distinction, who had driven into town with a chariot and several
attendants, sent his respects to the gentleman that was
with us, and begged to know when he should think proper to be waited
upon.-"Bid the fellow wait," cried our guest, "till I
shall have leisure to receive him;" and then turning to my son, "I again
find,
sir," proceeded he, "that you are guilty of the same
offence for which you once had my reproof, and for which the law is now
preparing its justest punishments. You imagine, perhaps,
that a contempt for your own life gives you a right to take that of
another; but where, sir, is the difference between a
duellist who hazards a life of no value, and the murderer who acts with
greater security? Is it any diminution of the gamester's
fraud when he alleges that he has staked a counter?"
"Alas, sir," cried I, "whoever you are, pity
the poor misguided creature; for what he has done was in obedience to a
deluded
mother, who in the bitterness of her resentment required
him upon her blessing to avenge her quarrel! Here, sir, is the letter,
which will serve to convince you of her imprudence and
diminish his guilt."
He took the letter and hastily read it over.
"This,"
says he, "though not a perfect excuse, is such a palliation
of his fault, as induces me to forgive him. And now, sir," continued he,
kindly taking my son by the hand, "I see you are surprised
at finding me here; but I have often visited prisons upon occasions
less interesting. I am now come to see justice done a
worthy man, for whom I have the most sincere esteem. I have long been a
disguised spectator of thy father's benevolence. I have
at his little dwelling enjoyed respect uncontaminated by flattery, and
have
received that happiness that courts could not give, from
the amusing simplicity round his fireside. My nephew has been apprized
of my intentions of coming here, and I find is arrived;
it would be wronging him and you to condemn him without examination. If
there be injury there shall be redress; and this I may
say without boasting, that none have ever taxed the injustice of Sir William
Thornhill."
We now found the personage whom we had so
long entertained as a harmless, amusing companion, was no other than the
celebrated Sir William Thornhill, to whose virtues and
singularities scarcely any were strangers. The poor Mr. Burchell was in
reality a man of a large fortune and great interest,
to whom senates listened with applause, and whom party heard with
conviction; who was the friend of his country, but loyal
to his king. My poor wife, recollecting her former familiarity, seemed
to
shrink with apprehension; but
Sophia, who a few moments before thought him her own,
now perceiving the immense distance to which he was removed by
fortune, was unable to conceal her tears.
"Ah, sir," cried my wife, with a piteous
aspect, "how is it possible that I can ever have your forgiveness! The
slights you
received from me the last time I had the honor of seeing
you at our house, and the jokes which I audaciously threw out, these
jokes, sir, I fear can never be forgiven."
"My dear good lady," returned he with a smile,
"if you had your joke, I had my answer; I'll leave it to all the company
if mine
were not as good as yours. To say the truth, I know nobody
whom I am disposed to be angry with at present, but the fellow
who so frightened my little girl here. I had not even
time to examine the rascal's person so as to describe him in an
advertisement. Can you tell me, Sophia, my dear, whether
you should know him again?"
"Indeed, sir," replied she, "I can't be positive;
yet now I recollect he had a large mark over one of his eyebrows."-"I ask
pardon, madam," interrupted Jenkinson, who was by, "but
be so good as to inform me if the fellow wore his own red
hair!"-"Yes, I think so," cried Sophia.-"And did your
honor," continued he, turning to Sir William, "observe the length of his
legs?"-"I can't be sure of their length," cried the baronet,
"but I am convinced of their swiftness;
for he outran me, which is what I thought few men in the
kingdom could have done."-"Please your honor," cried Jenkinson, "I
know the man; it is certainly the same; the best runner
in England: he has beaten Pinwire, of Newcastle; Timothy Baxter is his
name. I know him perfectly, and the very place of his
retreat this moment. If your honor will bid Mr. Gaoler let two of his men
go with me, I'll engage to produce him to you in an hour
at the farthest." Upon this the gaoler was called, who instantly
appearing, Sir William demanded if he knew him. "Yes,
please your honor," replied the gaoler, "I know Sir William Thornhill
well, and everybody that knows any thing of him will
desire to know more of him."-"Well, then," said the baronet, "my request
is, that you will permit this man and two of your servants
to go upon a message by my authority, and as I am in the commission
of the peace I undertake to secure you.""Your promise
is sufficient," replied the other, "and you may at a minute's warning send
them over England whenever your honor thinks fit."
In pursuance of the gaoler's compliance,
Jenkinson was despatched in search of Timothy Baxter, while we were amused
at
the assiduity of our youngest boy, Bill, who had just
come in and climbed up Sir William's neck in order to kiss him. His mother
was immediately going to chastise his familiarity, but
the worthy man prevented her; and taking the child, all ragged as he
was, upon his knee, "What, Bill, you chubby rogue," cried
he, "do you remember your old friend Burchell? and Dick, too, my
honest veteran, are you here? you shall find I have not
forgot you." So saying, he gave each a large piece of gingerbread, which
the poor fellows ate very heartily, as they had got that
morning but a very scanty breakfast.
We now sat down to dinner, which was almost
cold; but previously, my arm continuing painful, Sir William wrote a
prescription, for he had made the study of physic his
amusement, and was more than moderately skilled in the profession; this
being sent to an apothecary who lived in the place, my
arm was dressed, and I found almost instantaneous relief. We were
waited upon at dinner by the gaoler himself, who was
willing to do our guest all the honor in his power. But before we had well
dined, another message was brought from his nephew, desiring
permission to appear, in order to vindicate his innocence and
honor; with which request the baronet complied, and desired
Mr. Thornhill to be introduced.