Chapter ii.
The adventures which Sophia met with after her leaving Upton.
Our history, just before it was obliged to turn about and travelbackwards, had mentioned the departure of Sophia and her maid from theinn; we shall now therefore pursue the steps of that lovely creature,and leave her unworthy lover a little longer to bemoan his ill-luck,or rather his ill-conduct.
Sophia having directed her guide to travel through bye-roads, acrossthe country, they now passed the Severn, and had scarce got a milefrom the inn, when the young lady, looking behind her, saw severalhorses coming after on full speed. This greatly alarmed her fears, andshe called to the guide to put on as fast as possible.
He immediately obeyed her, and away they rode a full gallop. But thefaster they went, the faster were they followed; and as the horsesbehind were somewhat swifter than those before, so the former were atlength overtaken. A happy circumstance for poor Sophia; whose fears,joined to her fatigue, had almost overpowered her spirits; but she wasnow instantly relieved by a female voice, that greeted her in thesoftest manner, and with the utmost civility. This greeting Sophia, assoon as she could recover her breath, with like civility, and with thehighest satisfaction to herself, returned.
The travellers who joined Sophia, and who had given her such terror,consisted, like her own company, of two females and a guide. The twoparties proceeded three full miles together before any one offeredagain to open their mouths; when our heroine, having pretty well gotthe better of her fear (but yet being somewhat surprized that theother still continued to attend her, as she pursued no great road, andhad already passed through several turnings), accosted the strangelady in a most obliging tone, and said, "She was very happy to findthey were both travelling the same way." The other, who, like a ghost,only wanted to be spoke to, readily answered, "That the happiness wasentirely hers; that she was a perfect stranger in that country, andwas so overjoyed at meeting a companion of her own sex, that she hadperhaps been guilty of an impertinence, which required great apology,in keeping pace with her." More civilities passed between these twoladies; for Mrs Honour had now given place to the fine habit of thestranger, and had fallen into the rear. But, though Sophia had greatcuriosity to know why the other lady continued to travel on throughthe same bye-roads with herself, nay, though this gave her someuneasiness, yet fear, or modesty, or some other consideration,restrained her from asking the question.
The strange lady now laboured under a difficulty which appears almostbelow the dignity of history to mention. Her bonnet had been blownfrom her head not less than five times within the last mile; nor couldshe come at any ribbon or handkerchief to tie it under her chin. WhenSophia was informed of this, she immediately supplied her with ahandkerchief for this purpose; which while she was pulling from herpocket, she perhaps too much neglected the management of her horse,for the beast, now unluckily making a false step, fell upon hisfore-legs, and threw his fair rider from his back.
Though Sophia came head foremost to the ground, she happily receivednot the least damage: and the same circumstances which had perhapscontributed to her fall now preserved her from confusion; for the lanewhich they were then passing was narrow, and very much overgrown withtrees, so that the moon could here afford very little light, and wasmoreover, at present, so obscured in a cloud, that it was almostperfectly dark. By these means the young lady's modesty, which wasextremely delicate, escaped as free from injury as her limbs, and shewas once more reinstated in her saddle, having received no other harmthan a little fright by her fall.
Daylight at length appeared in its full lustre; and now the twoladies, who were riding over a common side by side, looking stedfastlyat each other, at the same moment both their eyes became fixed; boththeir horses stopt, and, both speaking together, with equal joypronounced, the one the name of Sophia, the other that of Harriet.
This unexpected encounter surprized the ladies much more than Ibelieve it will the sagacious reader, who must have imagined that thestrange lady could be no other than Mrs Fitzpatrick, the cousin ofMiss Western, whom we before mentioned to have sallied from the inn afew minutes after her.
So great was the surprize and joy which these two cousins conceived atthis meeting (for they had formerly been most intimate acquaintanceand friends, and had long lived together with their aunt Western),that it is impossible to recount half the congratulations which passedbetween them, before either asked a very natural question of theother, namely, whither she was going?
This at last, however, came first from Mrs Fitzpatrick; but, easy andnatural as the question may seem, Sophia found it difficult to give ita very ready and certain answer. She begged her cousin therefore tosuspend all curiosity till they arrived at some inn, "which Isuppose," says she, "can hardly be far distant; and, believe me,Harriet, I suspend as much curiosity on my side; for, indeed, Ibelieve our astonishment is pretty equal."
The conversation which passed between these ladies on the road was, Iapprehend, little worth relating; and less certainly was that betweenthe two waiting-women; for they likewise began to pay theircompliments to each other. As for the guides, they were debarred fromthe pleasure of discourse, the one being placed in the van, and theother obliged to bring up the rear.
In this posture they travelled many hours, till they came into a wideand well-beaten road, which, as they turned to the right, soon broughtthem to a very fair promising inn, where they all alighted: but sofatigued was Sophia, that as she had sat her horse during the lastfive or six miles with great difficulty, so was she now incapable ofdismounting from him without assistance. This the landlord, who hadhold of her horse, presently perceiving, offered to lift her in hisarms from her saddle; and she too readily accepted the tender of hisservice. Indeed fortune seems to have resolved to put Sophia to theblush that day, and the second malicious attempt succeeded better thanthe first; for my landlord had no sooner received the young lady inhis arms, than his feet, which the gout had lately very severelyhandled, gave way, and down he tumbled; but, at the same time, with noless dexterity than gallantry, contrived to throw himself under hischarming burden, so that he alone received any bruise from the fall;for the great injury which happened to Sophia was a violent shockgiven to her modesty by an immoderate grin, which, at her rising fromthe ground, she observed in the countenances of most of thebye-standers. This made her suspect what had really happened, and whatwe shall not here relate for the indulgence of those readers who arecapable of laughing at the offence given to a young lady's delicacy.Accidents of this kind we have never regarded in a comical light; norwill we scruple to say that he must have a very inadequate idea of themodesty of a beautiful young woman, who would wish to sacrifice it toso paltry a satisfaction as can arise from laughter.
This fright and shock, joined to the violent fatigue which both hermind and body had undergone, almost overcame the excellentconstitution of Sophia, and she had scarce strength sufficient tototter into the inn, leaning on the arm of her maid. Here she was nosooner seated than she called for a glass of water; but Mrs Honour,very judiciously, in my opinion, changed it into a glass of wine.
Mrs Fitzpatrick, hearing from Mrs Honour that Sophia had not been inbed during the two last nights, and observing her to look very paleand wan with her fatigue, earnestly entreated her to refresh herselfwith some sleep. She was yet a stranger to her history, or herapprehensions; but, had she known both, she would have given the sameadvice; for rest was visibly necessary for her; and their long journeythrough bye-roads so entirely removed all danger of pursuit, that shewas herself perfectly easy on that account.
Sophia was easily prevailed on to follow the counsel of her friend,which was heartily seconded by her maid. Mrs Fitzpatrick likewiseoffered to bear her cousin company, which Sophia, with muchcomplacence, accepted.
The mistress was no sooner in bed than the maid prepared to follow herexample. She began to make many apologies to her sister Abigail forleaving her alone in so horrid a place as an inn; but the other stopther short, being as we
ll inclined to a nap as herself, and desired thehonour of being her bedfellow. Sophia's maid agreed to give her ashare of her bed, but put in her claim to all the honour. So, aftermany courtsies and compliments, to bed together went thewaiting-women, as their mistresses had done before them.
It was usual with my landlord (as indeed it is with the wholefraternity) to enquire particularly of all coachmen, footmen,postboys, and others, into the names of all his guests; what theirestate was, and where it lay. It cannot therefore be wondered at thatthe many particular circumstances which attended our travellers, andespecially their retiring all to sleep at so extraordinary and unusualan hour as ten in the morning, should excite his curiosity. As soon,therefore, as the guides entered the kitchen, he began to examine whothe ladies were, and whence they came; but the guides, though theyfaithfully related all they knew, gave him very little satisfaction.On the contrary, they rather enflamed his curiosity than extinguishedit.
This landlord had the character, among all his neighbours, of being avery sagacious fellow. He was thought to see farther and deeper intothings than any man in the parish, the parson himself not excepted.Perhaps his look had contributed not a little to procure him thisreputation; for there was in this something wonderfully wise andsignificant, especially when he had a pipe in his mouth; which,indeed, he seldom was without. His behaviour, likewise, greatlyassisted in promoting the opinion of his wisdom. In his deportment hewas solemn, if not sullen; and when he spoke, which was seldom, healways delivered himself in a slow voice; and, though his sentenceswere short, they were still interrupted with many hums and ha's, ayays, and other expletives: so that, though he accompanied his wordswith certain explanatory gestures, such as shaking or nodding thehead, or pointing with his fore-finger, he generally left his hearersto understand more than he expressed; nay, he commonly gave them ahint that he knew much more than he thought proper to disclose. Thislast circumstance alone may, indeed, very well account for hischaracter of wisdom; since men are strangely inclined to worship whatthey do not understand. A grand secret, upon which several imposers onmankind have totally relied for the success of their frauds.
This polite person, now taking his wife aside, asked her "what shethought of the ladies lately arrived?" "Think of them?" said the wife,"why, what should I think of them?" "I know," answered he, "what Ithink. The guides tell strange stories. One pretends to be come fromGloucester, and the other from Upton; and neither of them, for what Ican find, can tell whither they are going. But what people ever travelacross the country from Upton hither, especially to London? And one ofthe maid-servants, before she alighted from her horse, asked if thiswas not the London road? Now I have put all these circumstancestogether, and whom do you think I have found them out to be?" "Nay,"answered she, "you know I never pretend to guess at yourdiscoveries."----"It is a good girl," replied he, chucking her underthe chin; "I must own you have always submitted to my knowledge ofthese matters. Why, then, depend upon it; mind what I say--depend uponit, they are certainly some of the rebel ladies, who, they say, travelwith the young Chevalier; and have taken a roundabout way to escapethe duke's army."
"Husband," quoth the wife, "you have certainly hit it; for one of themis dressed as fine as any princess; and, to be sure, she looks for allthe world like one.----But yet, when I consider one thing"----"Whenyou consider," cries the landlord contemptuously----"Come, pray let'shear what you consider."----"Why, it is," answered the wife, "that sheis too humble to be any very great lady: for, while our Betty waswarming the bed, she called her nothing but child, and my dear, andsweetheart; and, when Betty offered to pull off her shoes andstockings, she would not suffer her, saying, she would not give herthe trouble."
"Pugh!" answered the husband, "that is nothing. Dost think, becauseyou have seen some great ladies rude and uncivil to persons belowthem, that none of them know how to behave themselves when they comebefore their inferiors? I think I know people of fashion when I seethem--I think I do. Did not she call for a glass of water when shecame in? Another sort of women would have called for a dram; you knowthey would. If she be not a woman of very great quality, sell me for afool; and, I believe, those who buy me will have a bad bargain. Now,would a woman of her quality travel without a footman, unless uponsome such extraordinary occasion?" "Nay, to be sure, husband," criesshe, "you know these matters better than I, or most folk." "I think Ido know something," said he. "To be sure," answered the wife, "thepoor little heart looked so piteous, when she sat down in the chair, Iprotest I could not help having a compassion for her almost as much asif she had been a poor body. But what's to be done, husband? If an shebe a rebel, I suppose you intend to betray her up to the court. Well,she's a sweet-tempered, good-humoured lady, be she what she will, andI shall hardly refrain from crying when I hear she is hanged orbeheaded." "Pooh!" answered the husband.----"But, as to what's to bedone, it is not so easy a matter to determine. I hope, before she goesaway, we shall have the news of a battle; for, if the Chevalier shouldget the better, she may gain us interest at court, and make ourfortunes without betraying her." "Why, that's true," replied the wife;"and I heartily hope she will have it in her power. Certainly she's asweet good lady; it would go horribly against me to have her come toany harm." "Pooh!" cries the landlord, "women are always sotender-hearted. Why, you would not harbour rebels, would you?" "No,certainly," answered the wife; "and as for betraying her, come whatwill on't, nobody can blame us. It is what anybody would do in ourcase."
While our politic landlord, who had not, we see, undeservedly thereputation of great wisdom among his neighbours, was engaged indebating this matter with himself (for he paid little attention to theopinion of his wife), news arrived that the rebels had given the dukethe slip, and had got a day's march towards London; and soon afterarrived a famous Jacobite squire, who, with great joy in hiscountenance, shook the landlord by the hand, saying, "All's our own,boy, ten thousand honest Frenchmen are landed in Suffolk. Old Englandfor ever! ten thousand French, my brave lad! I am going to tap awaydirectly."
This news determined the opinion of the wise man, and he resolved tomake his court to the young lady when she arose; for he had now (hesaid) discovered that she was no other than Madam Jenny Cameronherself.
Chapter iii.
A very short chapter, in which however is a sun, a moon, a star, andan angel.
The sun (for he keeps very good hours at this time of the year) hadbeen some time retired to rest when Sophia arose greatly refreshed byher sleep; which, short as it was, nothing but her extreme fatiguecould have occasioned; for, though she had told her maid, and perhapsherself too, that she was perfectly easy when she left Upton, yet itis certain her mind was a little affected with that malady which isattended with all the restless symptoms of a fever, and is perhaps thevery distemper which physicians mean (if they mean anything) by thefever on the spirits.
Mrs Fitzpatrick likewise left her bed at the same time; and, havingsummoned her maid, immediately dressed herself. She was really a verypretty woman, and, had she been in any other company but that ofSophia, might have been thought beautiful; but when Mrs Honour of herown accord attended (for her mistress would not suffer her to bewaked), and had equipped our heroine, the charms of Mrs Fitzpatrick,who had performed the office of the morning-star, and had precededgreater glories, shared the fate of that star, and were totallyeclipsed the moment those glories shone forth.
Perhaps Sophia never looked more beautiful than she did at thisinstant. We ought not, therefore, to condemn the maid of the inn forher hyperbole, who, when she descended, after having lighted the fire,declared, and ratified it with an oath, that if ever there was anangel upon earth, she was now above-stairs.
Sophia had acquainted her cousin with her design to go to London; andMrs Fitzpatrick had agreed to accompany her; for the arrival of herhusband at Upton had put an end to her design of going to Bath, or toher aunt Western. They had therefore no sooner finished their tea thanSophia proposed to set out, the moon then shining extremely bright,and as for the fros
t she defied it; nor had she any of thoseapprehensions which many young ladies would have felt at travelling bynight; for she had, as we have before observed, some little degree ofnatural courage; and this, her present sensations, which borderedsomewhat on despair, greatly encreased. Besides, as she had alreadytravelled twice with safety by the light of the moon, she was thebetter emboldened to trust to it a third time.
The disposition of Mrs Fitzpatrick was more timorous; for, though thegreater terrors had conquered the less, and the presence of herhusband had driven her away at so unseasonable an hour from Upton,yet, being now arrived at a place where she thought herself safe fromhis pursuit, these lesser terrors of I know not what operated sostrongly, that she earnestly entreated her cousin to stay till thenext morning, and not expose herself to the dangers of travelling bynight.
Sophia, who was yielding to an excess, when she could neither laughnor reason her cousin out of these apprehensions, at last gave way tothem. Perhaps, indeed, had she known of her father's arrival at Upton,it might have been more difficult to have persuaded her; for as toJones, she had, I am afraid, no great horror at the thoughts of beingovertaken by him; nay, to confess the truth, I believe she ratherwished than feared it; though I might honestly enough have concealedthis wish from the reader, as it was one of those secret spontaneousemotions of the soul to which the reason is often a stranger.
When our young ladies had determined to remain all that evening intheir inn they were attended by the landlady, who desired to know whattheir ladyships would be pleased to eat. Such charms were there in thevoice, in the manner, and in the affable deportment of Sophia, thatshe ravished the landlady to the highest degree; and that good woman,concluding that she had attended Jenny Cameron, became in a moment astanch Jacobite, and wished heartily well to the young Pretender'scause, from the great sweetness and affability with which she had beentreated by his supposed mistress.
The two cousins began now to impart to each other their reciprocalcuriosity to know what extraordinary accidents on both sidesoccasioned this so strange and unexpected meeting. At last MrsFitzpatrick, having obtained of Sophia a promise of communicatinglikewise in her turn, began to relate what the reader, if he isdesirous to know her history, may read in the ensuing chapter.