History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
Chapter xiv.
2506 words | Chapter 220
A most dreadful chapter indeed; and which few readers ought to venture
upon in an evening, especially when alone.
Jones swallowed a large mess of chicken, or rather cock, broth, with a
very good appetite, as indeed he would have done the cock it was made
of, with a pound of bacon into the bargain; and now, finding in
himself no deficiency of either health or spirit, he resolved to get
up and seek his enemy.
But first he sent for the serjeant, who was his first acquaintance
among these military gentlemen. Unluckily that worthy officer having,
in a literal sense, taken his fill of liquor, had been some time
retired to his bolster, where he was snoring so loud that it was not
easy to convey a noise in at his ears capable of drowning that which
issued from his nostrils.
However, as Jones persisted in his desire of seeing him, a vociferous
drawer at length found means to disturb his slumbers, and to acquaint
him with the message. Of which the serjeant was no sooner made
sensible, than he arose from his bed, and having his clothes already
on, immediately attended. Jones did not think fit to acquaint the
serjeant with his design; though he might have done it with great
safety, for the halberdier was himself a man of honour, and had killed
his man. He would therefore have faithfully kept this secret, or
indeed any other which no reward was published for discovering. But as
Jones knew not those virtues in so short an acquaintance, his caution
was perhaps prudent and commendable enough.
He began therefore by acquainting the serjeant, that as he was now
entered into the army, he was ashamed of being without what was
perhaps the most necessary implement of a soldier; namely, a sword;
adding, that he should be infinitely obliged to him, if he could
procure one. “For which,” says he, “I will give you any reasonable
price; nor do I insist upon its being silver-hilted; only a good
blade, and such as may become a soldier's thigh.”
The serjeant, who well knew what had happened, and had heard that
Jones was in a very dangerous condition, immediately concluded, from
such a message, at such a time of night, and from a man in such a
situation, that he was light-headed. Now as he had his wit (to use
that word in its common signification) always ready, he bethought
himself of making his advantage of this humour in the sick man. “Sir,”
says he, “I believe I can fit you. I have a most excellent piece of
stuff by me. It is not indeed silver-hilted, which, as you say, doth
not become a soldier; but the handle is decent enough, and the blade
one of the best in Europe. It is a blade that--a blade that--in short,
I will fetch it you this instant, and you shall see it and handle it.
I am glad to see your honour so well with all my heart.”
Being instantly returned with the sword, he delivered it to Jones, who
took it and drew it; and then told the serjeant it would do very well,
and bid him name his price.
The serjeant now began to harangue in praise of his goods. He said
(nay he swore very heartily), “that the blade was taken from a French
officer, of very high rank, at the battle of Dettingen. I took it
myself,” says he, “from his side, after I had knocked him o' the head.
The hilt was a golden one. That I sold to one of our fine gentlemen;
for there are some of them, an't please your honour, who value the
hilt of a sword more than the blade.”
Here the other stopped him, and begged him to name a price. The
serjeant, who thought Jones absolutely out of his senses, and very
near his end, was afraid lest he should injure his family by asking
too little. However, after a moment's hesitation, he contented himself
with naming twenty guineas, and swore he would not sell it for less to
his own brother.
“Twenty guineas!” says Jones, in the utmost surprize: “sure you think
I am mad, or that I never saw a sword in my life. Twenty guineas,
indeed! I did not imagine you would endeavour to impose upon me. Here,
take the sword--No, now I think on't, I will keep it myself, and show
it your officer in the morning, acquainting him, at the same time,
what a price you asked me for it.”
The serjeant, as we have said, had always his wit (_in sensu
praedicto_) about him, and now plainly saw that Jones was not in the
condition he had apprehended him to be; he now, therefore,
counterfeited as great surprize as the other had shown, and said, “I
am certain, sir, I have not asked you so much out of the way. Besides,
you are to consider, it is the only sword I have, and I must run the
risque of my officer's displeasure, by going without one myself. And
truly, putting all this together, I don't think twenty shillings was
so much out of the way.”
“Twenty shillings!” cries Jones; “why, you just now asked me twenty
guineas.”--“How!” cries the serjeant, “sure your honour must have
mistaken me: or else I mistook myself--and indeed I am but half awake.
Twenty guineas, indeed! no wonder your honour flew into such a
passion. I say twenty guineas too. No, no, I mean twenty shillings, I
assure you. And when your honour comes to consider everything, I hope
you will not think that so extravagant a price. It is indeed true, you
may buy a weapon which looks as well for less money. But----”
Here Jones interrupted him, saying, “I will be so far from making any
words with you, that I will give you a shilling more than your
demand.” He then gave him a guinea, bid him return to his bed, and
wished him a good march; adding, he hoped to overtake them before the
division reached Worcester.
The serjeant very civilly took his leave, fully satisfied with his
merchandize, and not a little pleased with his dexterous recovery from
that false step into which his opinion of the sick man's
light-headedness had betrayed him.
As soon as the serjeant was departed, Jones rose from his bed, and
dressed himself entirely, putting on even his coat, which, as its
colour was white, showed very visibly the streams of blood which had
flowed down it; and now, having grasped his new-purchased sword in his
hand, he was going to issue forth, when the thought of what he was
about to undertake laid suddenly hold of him, and he began to reflect
that in a few minutes he might possibly deprive a human being of life,
or might lose his own. “Very well,” said he, “and in what cause do I
venture my life? Why, in that of my honour. And who is this human
being? A rascal who hath injured and insulted me without provocation.
But is not revenge forbidden by Heaven? Yes, but it is enjoined by the
world. Well, but shall I obey the world in opposition to the express
commands of Heaven? Shall I incur the Divine displeasure rather than
be called--ha--coward--scoundrel?--I'll think no more; I am resolved,
and must fight him.”
The clock had now struck twelve, and every one in the house were in
their beds, except the centinel who stood to guard Northerton, when
Jones softly opening his door, issued forth in pursuit of his enemy,
of whose place of confinement he had received a perfect description
from the drawer. It is not easy to conceive a much more tremendous
figure than he now exhibited. He had on, as we have said, a
light-coloured coat, covered with streams of blood. His face, which
missed that very blood, as well as twenty ounces more drawn from him
by the surgeon, was pallid. Round his head was a quantity of bandage,
not unlike a turban. In the right hand he carried a sword, and in the
left a candle. So that the bloody Banquo was not worthy to be compared
to him. In fact, I believe a more dreadful apparition was never raised
in a church-yard, nor in the imagination of any good people met in a
winter evening over a Christmas fire in Somersetshire.
When the centinel first saw our heroe approach, his hair began gently
to lift up his grenadier cap; and in the same instant his knees fell
to blows with each other. Presently his whole body was seized with
worse than an ague fit. He then fired his piece, and fell flat on his
face.
Whether fear or courage was the occasion of his firing, or whether he
took aim at the object of his terror, I cannot say. If he did,
however, he had the good fortune to miss his man.
Jones seeing the fellow fall, guessed the cause of his fright, at
which he could not forbear smiling, not in the least reflecting on the
danger from which he had just escaped. He then passed by the fellow,
who still continued in the posture in which he fell, and entered the
room where Northerton, as he had heard, was confined. Here, in a
solitary situation, he found--an empty quart pot standing on the
table, on which some beer being spilt, it looked as if the room had
lately been inhabited; but at present it was entirely vacant.
Jones then apprehended it might lead to some other apartment; but upon
searching all round it, he could perceive no other door than that at
which he entered, and where the centinel had been posted. He then
proceeded to call Northerton several times by his name; but no one
answered; nor did this serve to any other purpose than to confirm the
centinel in his terrors, who was now convinced that the volunteer was
dead of his wounds, and that his ghost was come in search of the
murderer: he now lay in all the agonies of horror; and I wish, with
all my heart, some of those actors who are hereafter to represent a
man frighted out of his wits had seen him, that they might be taught
to copy nature, instead of performing several antic tricks and
gestures, for the entertainment and applause of the galleries.
Perceiving the bird was flown, at least despairing to find him, and
rightly apprehending that the report of the firelock would alarm the
whole house, our heroe now blew out his candle, and gently stole back
again to his chamber, and to his bed; whither he would not have been
able to have gotten undiscovered, had any other person been on the
same staircase, save only one gentleman who was confined to his bed by
the gout; for before he could reach the door to his chamber, the hall
where the centinel had been posted was half full of people, some in
their shirts, and others not half drest, all very earnestly enquiring
of each other what was the matter.
The soldier was now found lying in the same place and posture in which
we just now left him. Several immediately applied themselves to raise
him, and some concluded him dead; but they presently saw their
mistake, for he not only struggled with those who laid their hands on
him, but fell a roaring like a bull. In reality, he imagined so many
spirits or devils were handling him; for his imagination being
possessed with the horror of an apparition, converted every object he
saw or felt into nothing but ghosts and spectres.
At length he was overpowered by numbers, and got upon his legs; when
candles being brought, and seeing two or three of his comrades
present, he came a little to himself; but when they asked him what was
the matter? he answered, “I am a dead man, that's all, I am a dead
man, I can't recover it, I have seen him.” “What hast thou seen,
Jack?” says one of the soldiers. “Why, I have seen the young volunteer
that was killed yesterday.” He then imprecated the most heavy curses
on himself, if he had not seen the volunteer, all over blood, vomiting
fire out of his mouth and nostrils, pass by him into the chamber where
Ensign Northerton was, and then seizing the ensign by the throat, fly
away with him in a clap of thunder.
This relation met with a gracious reception from the audience. All the
women present believed it firmly, and prayed Heaven to defend them
from murder. Amongst the men too, many had faith in the story; but
others turned it into derision and ridicule; and a serjeant who was
present answered very coolly, “Young man, you will hear more of this,
for going to sleep and dreaming on your post.”
The soldier replied, “You may punish me if you please; but I was as
broad awake as I am now; and the devil carry me away, as he hath the
ensign, if I did not see the dead man, as I tell you, with eyes as big
and as fiery as two large flambeaux.”
The commander of the forces, and the commander of the house, were now
both arrived; for the former being awake at the time, and hearing the
centinel fire his piece, thought it his duty to rise immediately,
though he had no great apprehensions of any mischief; whereas the
apprehensions of the latter were much greater, lest her spoons and
tankards should be upon the march, without having received any such
orders from her.
Our poor centinel, to whom the sight of this officer was not much more
welcome than the apparition, as he thought it, which he had seen
before, again related the dreadful story, and with many additions of
blood and fire; but he had the misfortune to gain no credit with
either of the last-mentioned persons: for the officer, though a very
religious man, was free from all terrors of this kind; besides, having
so lately left Jones in the condition we have seen, he had no
suspicion of his being dead. As for the landlady, though not over
religious, she had no kind of aversion to the doctrine of spirits; but
there was a circumstance in the tale which she well knew to be false,
as we shall inform the reader presently.
But whether Northerton was carried away in thunder or fire, or in
whatever other manner he was gone, it was now certain that his body
was no longer in custody. Upon this occasion the lieutenant formed a
conclusion not very different from what the serjeant is just mentioned
to have made before, and immediately ordered the centinel to be taken
prisoner. So that, by a strange reverse of fortune (though not very
uncommon in a military life), the guard became the guarded.
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