CHAPTER VIII.
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This extraordinary interview was now passed.
Pleasure as well as pain attended my reflections on it. I
adhered to the promise I had improvidently given to Welbeck,
but had excited displeasure, and perhaps suspicion in the lady.
She would find it hard to account for my silence. She would
probably impute it to perverseness, or imagine it to flow from
some incident connected with the death of Clavering, calculated
to give a new edge to her curiosity.
It was plain that some connection subsisted between her
and Welbeck. Would she drop the subject at the point
which it had now attained? Would she cease to exert herself
to extract from me the desired information, or would
she not rather make Welbeck a party in the cause, and prejudice
my new friend against me? This was an evil proper,
by all lawful means, to avoid. I knew of no other expedient
than to confess to him the truth, with regard to Clavering,
and explain to him the dilemma in which my adherence to
my promise had involved me.
I found him on my return home and delivered him the
letter with which I was charged. At the sight of it surprise,
mingled with some uneasiness appeared in his looks.
“What!” said he, in a tone of disappointment, “you then
saw the lady?”
I now remembered his directions to leave my message at
the door, and apologized for my neglecting them by telling
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my reasons. His chagrin vanished, but not without an apparent
effort, and he said that all was well; the affair was of
no moment.
After a pause of preparation, I intreated his attention to
something which I had to relate. I then detailed the history
of Clavering and of my late embarrassments. As I went on
his countenance betokened increasing solicitude. His emotion
was particularly strong when I came to the interrogatories
of Mrs. Wentworth in relation to Clavering; but this
emotion gave way to profound surprise when I related the
manner in which I had eluded her inquiries. I concluded
with observing, that when I promised forbearance on the
subject of my own adventures, I had not foreseen any exigence
which would make an adherence to my promise difficult
or inconvenient: that, if his interest was promoted by
my silence, I was still willing to maintain it and requested his
directions how to conduct myself on this occasion.
He appeared to ponder deeply and with much perplexity
on what I had said. When he spoke there was hesitation
in his manner and circuity in his expressions, that proved him
to have something in his thoughts which he knew not how
to communicate. He frequently paused; but my answers
and remarks, occasionally given, appeared to deter him from
the revelation of his purpose. Our discourse ended, for the
present, by his desiring me to persist in my present plan; I
should suffer no inconveniencies from it, since it would be
my own fault if an interview again took place between the
lady and me; meanwhile he should see her and effectually
silence her inquiries.
I ruminated not superficially or briefly on this dialogue.
By what means would he silence her inquiries? He surely
meant not to mislead her by fallacious representations? Some
inquietude now crept into my thoughts. I began to form
conjectures as to the nature of the scheme to which my suppression
of the truth was to be thus made subservient. It
seemed as if I were walking in the dark and might rush into
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snares or drop into pits before I was aware of my danger.
Each moment accumulated my doubts and I cherished a
secret foreboding that the event would prove my new situation
to be far less fortunate than I had, at first, fondly
believed. The question now occurred, with painful repetition,
Who and what was Welbeck? What was his relation to
this foreign lady? What was the service for which I was to
be employed?
I could not be contented without a solution of these mysteries.
Why should I not lay my soul open before my new
friend? Considering my situation, would he regard my fears
and my surmises as criminal? I felt that they originated in
laudable habits and views. My peace of mind depended on
the favourable verdict which conscience should pass on my
proceedings. I saw the emptiness of fame and luxury when
put in the balance against the recompense of virtue. Never
would I pruchase the blandishments of adulation and the
glare of opulence at the price of my honesty.
Amidst these reflections the dinner-hour arrived. The
lady and Welbeck were present. A new train of sentiments
now occupied my mind. I regarded them both with inquisitive
eyes. I cannot well account for the revolution which
had taken place in my mind. Perhaps it was a proof of the
capriciousness of my temper, or it was merely the fruit of
my profound ignorance of life and manners. Whencever it
arose, certain it is that I contemplated the scene before me
with altered eyes. Its order and pomp was no longer the
parent of tranquility and awe. My wild reveries of inheriting
this splendour and appropriating the affections of this
nymph, I now regarded as lunatic hope and childish folly.
Education and nature had qualified me for a different scene.
This might be the mask of misery and the structure of vice.
My companions as well as myself were silent during the
meal. The lady retired as soon as it was finished. My inexplicable
melancholy increased. It did not pass unnoticed by
Welbeck, who inquired, with an air of kindness, into the
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cause of my visible dejection. I am almost ashamed to
relate to what extremes my folly transported me. Instead of
answering him I was weak enough to shed tears.
This excited afresh his surprise and his sympathy. He
renewed his inquiries: my heart was full, but how to disburthen
it I knew not. At length, with some difficulty, I
expressed my wishes to leave his house and return into the
country.
“What,” he asked, “had occurred to suggest this new
plan? What motive could incite me to bury myself in rustic
obscurity? How did I purpose to dispose of myself? Had
some new friend sprung up more able or more willing to
benefit me than he had been?”
“No,” I answered, “I have no relation who would own
me, or friend who would protect. If I went into the country
it would be to the toilsome occupations of a day-labourer:
but even that was better than my present situation.”
“This opinion,” he observed, “must be newly formed.
What was there irksome or offensive in my present mode of
life.
That this man condescended to expostulate with me; to
dissuade me from my new plan; and to enumerate the benefits
which he was willing to confer, penetrated my heart with
gratitude. I could not but acknowledge that leisure and literature,
copious and elegant accommodation were valuable for
their own sake: that all the delights of sensation and refinements
of intelligence were comprised within my present
sphere; and would be nearly wanting in that to which I was
going; I felt temporary compunction for my folly, and determined
to adopt a different deportment. I could not prevail
upon myself to unfold the true cause of my dejection, and
permitted him therefore to ascribe it to a kind of homesickness;
to inexperience; and to that ignorance which, on being
ushered into a new scene, is oppressed with a sensation of forlornness.
He remarked that these chimeras would vanish
before the influence of time, and company, and occupation.
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On the next week he would furnish me with employment;
meanwhile he would introduce me into company where intelligence
and vivacity would combine to dispel my glooms.
As soon as we separated, my disquietudes returned. I contended
with them in vain and finally resolved to abandon my
present situation. When and how this purpose was to be
effected I knew not. That was to be the theme of future
deliberation.
Evening having arrived, Welbeck proposed to me to
accompany him on a visit to one of his friends. I cheerfully
accepted the invitation and went with him to your friend
Mr. Wortley's. A numerous party was assembled, chiefly
of the female sex. I was introduced by Welbeck by the
title of a young friend of his. Notwithstanding my embarrassment
I did not fail to attend to what passed on this occasion.
I remarked that the utmost deference was paid to my
companion, on whom his entrance into this company appeared
to operate like magic. His eye sparkled; his features
expanded into a benign serenity; and his wonted reserve gave
place to a torrent-like and overflowing elocution.
I marked this change in his deportment with the utmost
astonishment. So great was it, that I could hardly persuade
myself that it was the same person. A mind thus susceptible
of new impressions must be, I conceived, of a wonderful
texture. Nothing was further from my expectations
than that this vivacity was mere dissimulation and would take
its leave of him when he left the company: yet this I found
to be the case. The door was no sooner closed after him than
his accustomed solemnity returned. He spake little, and
that little was delivered with emphatical and monosyllabic
brevity.
We returned home at a late hour, and I immediately
retired to my chamber, not so much from the desire of repose
as in order to enjoy and pursue my own reflections without
interruption.
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The condition of my mind was considerably remote from
happiness. I was placed in a scene that furnished fuel to
my curiosity. This passion is a source of pleasure, provided
its gratification be practicable. I had no reason, in my present
circumstances, to despair of knowledge; yet suspicion
and anxiety beset me. I thought upon the delay and toil
which the removal of my ignorance would cost, and reaped
only pain and fear from the reflection.
The air was remarkably sultry. Lifted sashes and lofty
ceilings were insufficient to attemper it. The perturbation
of my thoughts affected my body, and the heat which oppressed
me, was aggravated, by my restlessness, almost into
fever. Some hours were thus painfully past, when I recollected
that the bath, erected in the court below, contained
a sufficient antidote to the scorching influence of the atmosphere.
I rose, and descended the stairs softly, that I might not
alarm Welbeck and the lady, who occupied the two rooms
on the second floor. I proceeded to the bath, and filling the
reservoir with water, speedily dissipated the heat that incommoded
me. Of all species of sensual gratification, that was
the most delicious; and I continued for a long time, laving
my limbs and moistening my hair. In the midst of this
amusement, I noticed the approach of day, and immediately
saw the propriety of returning to my chamber. I returned
with the same caution which I had used in descending; my
feet were bare, so that it was easy to proceed unattended by
the smallest signal of my progress.
I had reached the carpetted staircase, and was slowly
ascending, when I heard, within the chamber that was occupied
by the lady, a noise, as of some one moving. Though
not concious of having acted improperly, yet I felt reluctance
to be seen. There was no reason to suppose that this
sound was connected with the detection of me, in this situation;
yet I acted as if this reason existed, and made haste
to pass the door and gain the second flight of steps.
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I was unable to accomplish my design, when the chamber
door slowly opened, and Welbeck, with a light in his hand,
came out. I was abashed and disconcerted at this interview.
He started at seeing me; but discovering in an instant who
it was, his face assumed an expression in which shame and
anger were powerfully blended. He seemed on the point of
opening his mouth to rebuke me; but suddenly checking
himself, he said, in a tone of mildness, “How is this?—
Whence come you?”
His emotion seemed to communicate itself, with an electrical
rapidity, to my heart. My tongue faltered while I
made some answer. I said, “I had been seeking relief from
the heat of the weather, in the bath.” He heard my explanation
in silence: and, after a moment's pause, passed into
his own room, and shut himself in. I hastened to my chamber.
A different observer might have found in these circumstances
no food for his suspicion or his wonder. To me, however,
they suggested vague and tumultuous ideas.
As I strode across the room I repeated, “This woman is
his daughter. What proof have I of that? He once asserted
it; and has frequently uttered allusions and hints from
which no other inference could be drawn. The chamber
from which he came, in an hour devoted to sleep, was hers.
For what end could a visit like this be paid? A parent may
visit his child at all seasons, without a crime. On seeing
me, methought his features indicated more than surprise.
A keen interpreter would be apt to suspect a conciousness of
wrong. What if this woman be not his child! How shall
their relationship be ascertained?”
I was summoned at the customary hour to breakfast. My
mind was full of ideas connected with this incident. I was
not endowed with sufficient firmness to propose the cool and
systematic observation of this man's deportment. I felt as
if the state of my mind could not but be evident to him;
and experienced in myself all the confusion which this
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discovery was calculated to produce in him. I would have
willingly excused myself from meeting him; but that was
impossible.
At breakfast, after the usual salutations, nothing was said.
For a time I scarcely lifted my eyes from the table. Stealing
a glance at Welbeck, I discovered in his features nothing
but his wonted gravity. He appeared occupied with thoughts
that had no relation to last night's adventure. This encouraged
me; and I gradually recovered my composure. Their
inattention to me allowed me occasionally to throw scrutinizing
and comparing glances at the face of each.
The relationship of parent and child is commonly discoverable
in the visage; but the child may resemble either of
its parents, yet have no feature in common with both. Here
outlines, surfaces, and hues were in absolute contrariety.
That kindred subsisted between them was possible, notwithstanding
this dissimilitude: but this circumstance contributed
to envenom my suspicions.
Breakfast being finished, Welbeck cast an eye of invitation
to the piano forte. The lady rose to comply with his
request. My eye chanced to be, at that moment, fixed on her.
In stepping to the instrument some motion or appearance
awakened a thought in my mind, which affected my feelings
like the shock of an earthquake.
I have too slight acquaintance with the history of the passions
to truly explain the emotion which now throbbed in my
veins. I had been a stranger to what is called love. From
subsequent reflection, I have contracted a suspicion, that the
sentiment with which I regarded this lady was not untinctured
from this source, and that hence arose the turbulence of my
feelings, on observing what I construed into marks of pregnancy.
The evidence afforded me was slight; yet it exercised
an absolute sway over my belief.
It was well that this suspicion had not been sooner excited.
Now civility did not require my stay in the apartment, and
nothing but flight could conceal the state of my mind. I
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hastened, therefore, to a distance, and shrouded myself in
the friendly secrecy of my own chamber.
The constitution of my mind is doubtless singular and perverse;
yet that opinion, perhaps, is the fruit of my ignorance.
It may by no means be uncommon for men to fashion their
conclusions in opposition to evidence and probability, and so
as to feed their malice and subvert their happiness. Thus it
was, in an eminent degree, in my case. The simple fact was
connected, in my mind, with a train of the most hateful consequences.
The depravity of Welbeck was inferred from
it. The charms of this angelic woman were tarnished and
withered. I had formerly surveyed her as a precious and perfect
monument, but now it was a scene of ruin and blast.
This had been a source of sufficient anguish; but this was
not all. I recollected that the claims of a parent had been
urged. Will you believe that these claims were now admitted,
and that they heightened the iniquity of Welbeck into
the blackest and most stupendous of all crimes? These ideas
were necessarily transient. Conclusions more conformable
to appearances succeeded. This lady might have been lately
reduced to widowhood. The recent loss of a beloved companion
would sufficiently account for her dejection, and make
her present situation compatible with duty.
By this new train of ideas I was somewhat comforted. I
saw the folly of precipitate inferences, and the injustice of my
atrocious imputations, and acquired some degree of patience
in my present state of uncertainty. My heart was lightened
of its wonted burthen, and I laboured to invent some harmless
explication of the scene that I had witnessed the preceding
night.
At dinner Welbeck appeared as usual, but not the lady.
I ascribed her absence to some casual indisposition, and ventured
to inquire into the state of her health. My companion
said she was well, but that she had left the city for a month
or two, finding the heat of summer inconvenient where she
was. This was no unplausible reason for retirement. A
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candid mind would have acquiesced in this representation, and
found in it nothing inconsistent with a supposition respecting
the cause of appearances favourable to her character; but
otherwise was I affected. The uneasiness which had flown
for a moment returned, and I sunk into gloomy silence.
From this I was roused by my patron, who requested me
to deliver a billet, which he put into my hand, at the counting-house
of Mr. Thetford, and to bring him an answer. This
message was speedily performed. I entered a large building
by the river side. A spacious apartment presented itself,
well furnished with pipes and hogsheads. In one corner was
a smaller room, in which a gentleman was busy at writing. I
advanced to the door of the room, but was there met by a
young person, who received my paper, and delivered it to him
within. I stood still at the door; but was near enough to
overhear what would pass between them.
The letter was laid upon the desk, and presently he that
sat at it lifted his eyes, and glanced at the superscription. He
scarcely spoke above a whisper, but his words, nevertheless,
were clearly distinguishable. I did not call to mind the sound
of his voice, but his words called up a train of recollections.
“Lo!” said he, carelessly, “this from the Nabob!”
An incident so slight as this was sufficient to open a spacious
scene of meditation. This little word, half whispered
in a thoughtless mood, was a key to unlock an extensive cabinet
of secrets. Thetford was probably indifferent whether
his exclamation were overheard. Little did he think on the
inferences which would be built upon it.
“The Nabob!” By this appellation had some one been
denoted in the chamber-dialogue, of which I had been an
unsuspected auditor. The man who pretended poverty, and
yet gave proofs of inordinate wealth; whom it was pardonable
to defraud of thirty thousand dollars; first, because the
loss of that sum would be trivial to one opulent as he; and
secondly, because he was imagined to have acquired this opulence
by other than honest methods. Instead of forthwith
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returning home, I wandered into the fields, to indulge myself
in the new thoughts which were produced by this occurrence.
I entertained no doubt that the person alluded to was my
patron. No new light was thrown upon his character; unless
something were deducible from the charge vaguely made,
that his wealth was the fruit of illicit practices. He was
opulent, and the sources of his wealth were unknown, if not
to the rest of the community, at least to Thetford. But
here had a plot been laid. The fortune of Thetford's brother
was to rise from the success of artifices, of which the
credulity of Welbeck was to be the victim. To detect
and to counterwork this plot was obviously my duty. My
interference might now indeed be too late to be useful; but
this was at least to be ascertained by experiment.
How should my intention be effected? I had hitherto concealed
from Welbeck my adventures at Thetford's house.
These it was now necessary to disclose, and to mention the
recent occurrence. My deductions, in consequence of my
ignorance, might be erroneous; but of their truth his knowledge
of his own affairs would enable him to judge. It was
possible that Thetford and he, whose chamber-conversation
I had overheard, were different persons. I endeavoured in
vain to ascertain their identity by a comparison of their
voices. The words lately heard, my remembrance did not
enable me certainly to pronounce to be uttered by the same
organs.
This uncertainty was of little moment. It sufficed that
Welbeck was designated by this appellation, and that therefore
he was proved to be the subject of some fraudulent proceeding.
The information that I possessed it was my duty
to communicate as expeditiously as possible. I was resolved
to employ the first opportunity that offered for this end.
My meditations had been ardently pursued, and, when I
recalled my attention, I found myself bewildered among
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fields and fences. It was late before I extricated myself
from unknown paths, and reached home.
I entered the parlour; but Welbeck was not there. A
table, with tea-equipage for one person was set; from which
I inferred that Welbeck was engaged abroad. This belief
was confirmed by the report of the servant. He could not
inform me where his master was, but merely that he should
not take tea at home. This incident was a source of vexation
and impatience. I knew not but that delay would be of
the utmost moment to the safety of my friend. Wholly
unacquainted as I was with the nature of his contracts with
Thetford, I could not decide whether a single hour would
not avail to obviate the evils that threatened him. Had I
known whither to trace his footsteps, I should certainly have
sought an immediate interview; but, as it was, I was obliged
to wait with what patience I could collect for his return to
his own house.
I waited hour after hour in vain. The sun declined, and
the shades of evening descended; but Welbeck was still at
a distance.
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Brown, Charles Brockden, 1771-1810 [1799], Arthur Mervyn, or, Memoirs of the year 1793... Volume 1 [2 pts.] (George F. Hopkins, Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf030v1].
