CHAPTER VII.
_A very short chapter, in which parson Adams went a great way._
The lady, having finished her story, received the thanks of the company;and now Joseph, putting his head out of the coach, cried out, "Neverbelieve me if yonder be not our parson Adams walking along without hishorse!"--"On my word, and so he is," says Slipslop: "and as sure astwopence he hath left him behind at the inn." Indeed, true it is, theparson had exhibited a fresh instance of his absence of mind; for he wasso pleased with having got Joseph into the coach, that he never oncethought of the beast in the stable; and, finding his legs as nimble ashe desired, he sallied out, brandishing a crabstick, and had kept onbefore the coach, mending and slackening his pace occasionally, so thathe had never been much more or less than a quarter of a miledistant from it.
Mrs Slipslop desired the coachman to overtake him, which he attempted,but in vain; for the faster he drove the faster ran the parson, oftencrying out, "Aye, aye, catch me if you can;" till at length the coachmanswore he would as soon attempt to drive after a greyhound, and, givingthe parson two or three hearty curses, he cry'd, "Softly, softly, boys,"to his horses, which the civil beasts immediately obeyed.
But we will be more courteous to our reader than he was to MrsSlipslop; and, leaving the coach and its company to pursue theirjourney, we will carry our reader on after parson Adams, who stretchedforwards without once looking behind him, till, having left the coachfull three miles in his rear, he came to a place where, by keeping theextremest track to the right, it was just barely possible for a humancreature to miss his way. This track, however, did he keep, as indeed hehad a wonderful capacity at these kinds of bare possibilities, and,travelling in it about three miles over the plain, he arrived at thesummit of a hill, whence looking a great way backwards, and perceivingno coach in sight, he sat himself down on the turf, and, pulling out hisAeschylus, determined to wait here for its arrival.
He had not sat long here before a gun going off very near, a littlestartled him; he looked up and saw a gentleman within a hundred pacestaking up a partridge which he had just shot.
Adams stood up and presented a figure to the gentleman which would havemoved laughter in many; for his cassock had just again fallen down belowhis greatcoat, that is to say, it reached his knees, whereas the skirtsof his greatcoat descended no lower than half-way down his thighs; butthe gentleman's mirth gave way to his surprize at beholding such apersonage in such a place.
Adams, advancing to the gentleman, told him he hoped he had good sport,to which the other answered, "Very little."--"I see, sir," says Adams,"you have smote one partridge;" to which the sportsman made no reply,but proceeded to charge his piece.
Whilst the gun was charging, Adams remained in silence, which he at lastbroke by observing that it was a delightful evening. The gentleman, whohad at first sight conceived a very distasteful opinion of the parson,began, on perceiving a book in his hand and smoaking likewise theinformation of the cassock, to change his thoughts, and made a smalladvance to conversation on his side by saying, "Sir, I suppose you arenot one of these parts?"
Adams immediately told him, "No; that he was a traveller, and invited bythe beauty of the evening and the place to repose a little and amusehimself with reading."--"I may as well repose myself too," said thesportsman, "for I have been out this whole afternoon, and the devil abird have I seen till I came hither."
"Perhaps then the game is not very plenty hereabouts?" cries Adams. "No,sir," said the gentleman: "the soldiers, who are quartered in theneighbourhood, have killed it all."--"It is very probable," cries Adams,"for shooting is their profession."--"Ay, shooting the game," answeredthe other; "but I don't see they are so forward to shoot our enemies. Idon't like that affair of Carthagena; if I had been there, I believe Ishould have done other-guess things, d--n me: what's a man's life whenhis country demands it? a man who won't sacrifice his life for hiscountry deserves to be hanged, d--n me." Which words he spoke with soviolent a gesture, so loud a voice, so strong an accent, and so fierce acountenance, that he might have frightened a captain of trained bands atthe head of his company; but Mr Adams was not greatly subject to fear;he told him intrepidly that he very much approved his virtue, butdisliked his swearing, and begged him not to addict himself to so bad acustom, without which he said he might fight as bravely as Achilles did.Indeed he was charmed with this discourse; he told the gentleman hewould willingly have gone many miles to have met a man of his generousway of thinking; that, if he pleased to sit down, he should be greatlydelighted to commune with him; for, though he was a clergyman, he wouldhimself be ready, if thereto called, to lay down his life forhis country.
The gentleman sat down, and Adams by him; and then the latter began, asin the following chapter, a discourse which we have placed by itself, asit is not only the most curious in this but perhaps in any other book.