History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
Chapter vi.
1339 words | Chapter 263
In which the mistake of the landlord throws Sophia into a dreadful
consternation.
Mrs Fitzpatrick was proceeding in her narrative when she was
interrupted by the entrance of dinner, greatly to the concern of
Sophia; for the misfortunes of her friend had raised her anxiety, and
left her no appetite but what Mrs Fitzpatrick was to satisfy by her
relation.
The landlord now attended with a plate under his arm, and with the
same respect in his countenance and address which he would have put on
had the ladies arrived in a coach and six.
The married lady seemed less affected with her own misfortunes than
was her cousin; for the former eat very heartily, whereas the latter
could hardly swallow a morsel. Sophia likewise showed more concern and
sorrow in her countenance than appeared in the other lady; who, having
observed these symptoms in her friend, begged her to be comforted,
saying, “Perhaps all may yet end better than either you or I expect.”
Our landlord thought he had now an opportunity to open his mouth, and
was resolved not to omit it. “I am sorry, madam,” cries he, “that your
ladyship can't eat; for to be sure you must be hungry after so long
fasting. I hope your ladyship is not uneasy at anything, for, as madam
there says, all may end better than anybody expects. A gentleman who
was here just now brought excellent news; and perhaps some folks who
have given other folks the slip may get to London before they are
overtaken; and if they do, I make no doubt but they will find people
who will be very ready to receive them.”
All persons under the apprehension of danger convert whatever they see
and hear into the objects of that apprehension. Sophia therefore
immediately concluded, from the foregoing speech, that she was known,
and pursued by her father. She was now struck with the utmost
consternation, and for a few minutes deprived of the power of speech;
which she no sooner recovered than she desired the landlord to send
his servants out of the room, and then, addressing herself to him,
said, “I perceive, sir, you know who we are; but I beseech you--nay, I
am convinced, if you have any compassion or goodness, you will not
betray us.”
“I betray your ladyship!” quoth the landlord; “no (and then he swore
several very hearty oaths); I would sooner be cut into ten thousand
pieces. I hate all treachery. I! I never betrayed any one in my life
yet, and I am sure I shall not begin with so sweet a lady as your
ladyship. All the world would very much blame me if I should, since it
will be in your ladyship's power so shortly to reward me. My wife can
witness for me, I knew your ladyship the moment you came into the
house: I said it was your honour, before I lifted you from your horse,
and I shall carry the bruises I got in your ladyship's service to the
grave; but what signified that, as long as I saved your ladyship? To
be sure some people this morning would have thought of getting a
reward; but no such thought ever entered into my head. I would sooner
starve than take any reward for betraying your ladyship.”
“I promise you, sir,” says Sophia, “if it be ever in my power to
reward you, you shall not lose by your generosity.”
“Alack-a-day, madam!” answered the landlord; “in your ladyship's
power! Heaven put it as much into your will! I am only afraid your
honour will forget such a poor man as an innkeeper; but, if your
ladyship should not, I hope you will remember what reward I
refused--refused! that is, I would have refused, and to be sure it may
be called refusing, for I might have had it certainly; and to be sure
you might have been in some houses;--but, for my part, would not
methinks for the world have your ladyship wrong me so much as to
imagine I ever thought of betraying you, even before I heard the good
news.”
“What news, pray?” says Sophia, something eagerly.
“Hath not your ladyship heard it, then?” cries the landlord; “nay,
like enough, for I heard it only a few minutes ago; and if I had never
heard it, may the devil fly away with me this instant if I would have
betrayed your honour! no, if I would, may I--” Here he subjoined
several dreadful imprecations, which Sophia at last interrupted, and
begged to know what he meant by the news.--He was going to answer,
when Mrs Honour came running into the room, all pale and breathless,
and cried out, “Madam, we are all undone, all ruined, they are come,
they are come!” These words almost froze up the blood of Sophia; but
Mrs Fitzpatrick asked Honour who were come?--“Who?” answered she,
“why, the French; several hundred thousands of them are landed, and we
shall be all murdered and ravished.”
As a miser, who hath, in some well-built city, a cottage, value twenty
shillings, when at a distance he is alarmed with the news of a fire,
turns pale and trembles at his loss; but when he finds the beautiful
palaces only are burnt, and his own cottage remains safe, he comes
instantly to himself, and smiles at his good fortunes: or as (for we
dislike something in the former simile) the tender mother, when
terrified with the apprehension that her darling boy is drowned, is
struck senseless and almost dead with consternation; but when she is
told that little master is safe, and the Victory only, with twelve
hundred brave men, gone to the bottom, life and sense again return,
maternal fondness enjoys the sudden relief from all its fears, and the
general benevolence which at another time would have deeply felt the
dreadful catastrophe, lies fast asleep in her mind;--so Sophia, than
whom none was more capable of tenderly feeling the general calamity of
her country, found such immediate satisfaction from the relief of
those terrors she had of being overtaken by her father, that the
arrival of the French scarce made any impression on her. She gently
chid her maid for the fright into which she had thrown her, and said
“she was glad it was no worse; for that she had feared somebody else
was come.”
“Ay, ay,” quoth the landlord, smiling, “her ladyship knows better
things; she knows the French are our very best friends, and come over
hither only for our good. They are the people who are to make Old
England flourish again. I warrant her honour thought the duke was
coming; and that was enough to put her into a fright. I was going to
tell your ladyship the news.--His honour's majesty, Heaven bless him,
hath given the duke the slip, and is marching as fast as he can to
London, and ten thousand French are landed to join him on the road.”
Sophia was not greatly pleased with this news, nor with the gentleman
who related it; but, as she still imagined he knew her (for she could
not possibly have any suspicion of the real truth), she durst not show
any dislike. And now the landlord, having removed the cloth from the
table, withdrew; but at his departure frequently repeated his hopes of
being remembered hereafter.
The mind of Sophia was not at all easy under the supposition of being
known at this house; for she still applied to herself many things
which the landlord had addressed to Jenny Cameron; she therefore
ordered her maid to pump out of him by what means he had become
acquainted with her person, and who had offered him the reward for
betraying her; she likewise ordered the horses to be in readiness by
four in the morning, at which hour Mrs Fitzpatrick promised to bear
her company; and then, composing herself as well as she could, she
desired that lady to continue her story.
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