History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
Chapter v.
2109 words | Chapter 347
In which the history is continued.
Mr Allworthy, in his last speech, had recollected some tender ideas
concerning Jones, which had brought tears into the good man's eyes.
This Mrs Miller observing, said, “Yes, yes, sir, your goodness to this
poor young man is known, notwithstanding all your care to conceal it;
but there is not a single syllable of truth in what those villains
said. Mr Nightingale hath now discovered the whole matter. It seems
these fellows were employed by a lord, who is a rival of poor Mr
Jones, to have pressed him on board a ship.--I assure them I don't
know who they will press next. Mr Nightingale here hath seen the
officer himself, who is a very pretty gentleman, and hath told him
all, and is very sorry for what he undertook, which he would never
have done, had he known Mr Jones to have been a gentleman; but he was
told that he was a common strolling vagabond.”
Allworthy stared at all this, and declared he was a stranger to every
word she said. “Yes, sir,” answered she, “I believe you are.----It is
a very different story, I believe, from what those fellows told this
lawyer.”
“What lawyer, madam? what is it you mean?” said Allworthy. “Nay, nay,”
said she, “this is so like you to deny your own goodness: but Mr
Nightingale here saw him.” “Saw whom, madam?” answered he. “Why, your
lawyer, sir,” said she, “that you so kindly sent to enquire into the
affair.” “I am still in the dark, upon my honour,” said Allworthy.
“Why then do you tell him, my dear sir,” cries she. “Indeed, sir,”
said Nightingale, “I did see that very lawyer who went from you when I
came into the room, at an alehouse in Aldersgate, in company with two
of the fellows who were employed by Lord Fellamar to press Mr Jones,
and who were by that means present at the unhappy rencounter between
him and Mr Fitzpatrick.” “I own, sir,” said Mrs Miller, “when I saw
this gentleman come into the room to you, I told Mr Nightingale that I
apprehended you had sent him thither to inquire into the affair.”
Allworthy shewed marks of astonishment in his countenance at this
news, and was indeed for two or three minutes struck dumb by it. At
last, addressing himself to Mr Nightingale, he said, “I must confess
myself, sir, more surprized at what you tell me than I have ever been
before at anything in my whole life. Are you certain this was the
gentleman?” “I am most certain,” answered Nightingale. “At
Aldersgate?” cries Allworthy. “And was you in company with this lawyer
and the two fellows?”--“I was, sir,” said the other, “very near half
an hour.” “Well, sir,” said Allworthy, “and in what manner did the
lawyer behave? did you hear all that past between him and the
fellows?” “No, sir,” answered Nightingale, “they had been together
before I came.--In my presence the lawyer said little; but, after I
had several times examined the fellows, who persisted in a story
directly contrary to what I had heard from Mr Jones, and which I find
by Mr Fitzpatrick was a rank falshood, the lawyer then desired the
fellows to say nothing but what was the truth, and seemed to speak so
much in favour of Mr Jones, that, when I saw the same person with you,
I concluded your goodness had prompted you to send him thither.”--“And
did you not send him thither?” says Mrs Miller.--“Indeed I did not,”
answered Allworthy; “nor did I know he had gone on such an errand till
this moment.”--“I see it all!” said Mrs Miller, “upon my soul, I see
it all! No wonder they have been closeted so close lately. Son
Nightingale, let me beg you run for these fellows immediately----find
them out if they are above-ground. I will go myself”--“Dear madam,”
said Allworthy, “be patient, and do me the favour to send a servant
upstairs to call Mr Dowling hither, if he be in the house, or, if not,
Mr Blifil.” Mrs Miller went out muttering something to herself, and
presently returned with an answer, “That Mr Dowling was gone; but that
the t'other,” as she called him, “was coming.”
Allworthy was of a cooler disposition than the good woman, whose
spirits were all up in arms in the cause of her friend. He was not
however without some suspicions which were near akin to hers. When
Blifil came into the room, he asked him with a very serious
countenance, and with a less friendly look than he had ever before
given him, “Whether he knew anything of Mr Dowling's having seen any
of the persons who were present at the duel between Jones and another
gentleman?”
There is nothing so dangerous as a question which comes by surprize on
a man whose business it is to conceal truth, or to defend falshood.
For which reason those worthy personages, whose noble office it is to
save the lives of their fellow-creatures at the Old Bailey, take the
utmost care, by frequent previous examination, to divine every
question which may be asked their clients on the day of tryal, that
they may be supplyed with proper and ready answers, which the most
fertile invention cannot supply in an instant. Besides, the sudden and
violent impulse on the blood, occasioned by these surprizes, causes
frequently such an alteration in the countenance, that the man is
obliged to give evidence against himself. And such indeed were the
alterations which the countenance of Blifil underwent from this sudden
question, that we can scarce blame the eagerness of Mrs Miller, who
immediately cryed out, “Guilty, upon my honour! guilty, upon my soul!”
Mr Allworthy sharply rebuked her for this impetuosity; and then
turning to Blifil, who seemed sinking into the earth, he said, “Why do
you hesitate, sir, at giving me an answer? You certainly must have
employed him; for he would not, of his own accord, I believe, have
undertaken such an errand, and especially without acquainting me.”
Blifil then answered, “I own, sir, I have been guilty of an offence,
yet may I hope your pardon?”--“My pardon,” said Allworthy, very
angrily.--“Nay, sir,” answered Blifil, “I knew you would be offended;
yet surely my dear uncle will forgive the effects of the most amiable
of human weaknesses. Compassion for those who do not deserve it, I own
is a crime; and yet it is a crime from which you yourself are not
entirely free. I know I have been guilty of it in more than one
instance to this very person; and I will own I did send Mr Dowling,
not on a vain and fruitless enquiry, but to discover the witnesses,
and to endeavour to soften their evidence. This, sir, is the truth;
which, though I intended to conceal from you, I will not deny.”
“I confess,” said Nightingale, “this is the light in which it appeared
to me from the gentleman's behaviour.”
“Now, madam,” said Allworthy, “I believe you will once in your life
own you have entertained a wrong suspicion, and are not so angry with
my nephew as you was.”
Mrs Miller was silent; for, though she could not so hastily be pleased
with Blifil, whom she looked upon to have been the ruin of Jones, yet
in this particular instance he had imposed upon her as well as upon
the rest; so entirely had the devil stood his friend. And, indeed, I
look upon the vulgar observation, “That the devil often deserts his
friends, and leaves them in the lurch,” to be a great abuse on that
gentleman's character. Perhaps he may sometimes desert those who are
only his cup acquaintance; or who, at most, are but half his; but he
generally stands by those who are thoroughly his servants, and helps
them off in all extremities, till their bargain expires.
As a conquered rebellion strengthens a government, or as health is
more perfectly established by recovery from some diseases; so anger,
when removed, often gives new life to affection. This was the case of
Mr Allworthy; for Blifil having wiped off the greater suspicion, the
lesser, which had been raised by Square's letter, sunk of course, and
was forgotten; and Thwackum, with whom he was greatly offended, bore
alone all the reflections which Square had cast on the enemies of
Jones.
As for that young man, the resentment of Mr Allworthy began more and
more to abate towards him. He told Blifil, “He did not only forgive
the extraordinary efforts of his good-nature, but would give him the
pleasure of following his example.” Then, turning to Mrs Miller with a
smile which would have become an angel, he cryed, “What say you,
madam? shall we take a hackney-coach, and all of us together pay a
visit to your friend? I promise you it is not the first visit I have
made in a prison.”
Every reader, I believe, will be able to answer for the worthy woman;
but they must have a great deal of good-nature, and be well acquainted
with friendship, who can feel what she felt on this occasion. Few, I
hope, are capable of feeling what now passed in the mind of Blifil;
but those who are will acknowledge that it was impossible for him to
raise any objection to this visit. Fortune, however, or the gentleman
lately mentioned above, stood his friend, and prevented his undergoing
so great a shock; for at the very instant when the coach was sent for,
Partridge arrived, and, having called Mrs Miller from the company,
acquainted her with the dreadful accident lately come to light; and
hearing Mr Allworthy's intention, begged her to find some means of
stopping him: “For,” says he, “the matter must at all hazards be kept
a secret from him; and if he should now go, he will find Mr Jones and
his mother, who arrived just as I left him, lamenting over one another
the horrid crime they have ignorantly committed.”
The poor woman, who was almost deprived of her senses at his dreadful
news, was never less capable of invention than at present. However, as
women are much readier at this than men, she bethought herself of an
excuse, and, returning to Allworthy, said, “I am sure, sir, you will
be surprized at hearing any objection from me to the kind proposal you
just now made; and yet I am afraid of the consequence of it, if
carried immediately into execution. You must imagine, sir, that all
the calamities which have lately befallen this poor young fellow must
have thrown him into the lowest dejection of spirits; and now, sir,
should we all on a sudden fling him into such a violent fit of joy, as
I know your presence will occasion, it may, I am afraid, produce some
fatal mischief, especially as his servant, who is without, tells me he
is very far from being well.”
“Is his servant without?” cries Allworthy; “pray call him hither. I
will ask him some questions concerning his master.”
Partridge was at first afraid to appear before Mr Allworthy; but was
at length persuaded, after Mrs Miller, who had often heard his whole
story from his own mouth, had promised to introduce him.
Allworthy recollected Partridge the moment he came into the room,
though many years had passed since he had seen him. Mrs Miller,
therefore, might have spared here a formal oration, in which, indeed,
she was something prolix; for the reader, I believe, may have observed
already that the good woman, among other things, had a tongue always
ready for the service of her friends.
“And are you,” said Allworthy to Partridge, “the servant of Mr Jones?”
“I can't say, sir,” answered he, “that I am regularly a servant, but I
live with him, an't please your honour, at present. _Non sum qualis
eram_, as your honour very well knows.”
Mr Allworthy then asked him many questions concerning Jones, as to his
health, and other matters; to all which Partridge answered, without
having the least regard to what was, but considered only what he would
have things appear; for a strict adherence to truth was not among the
articles of this honest fellow's morality or his religion.
During this dialogue Mr Nightingale took his leave, and presently
after Mrs Miller left the room, when Allworthy likewise despatched
Blifil; for he imagined that Partridge when alone with him would be
more explicit than before company. They were no sooner left in private
together than Allworthy began, as in the following chapter.
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