Pamela, Or Virtue Rewarded
Page 69MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I have so much time upon my hands that I must write on, to employ
myself. The Sunday evening, where I left off, Mrs. Jewkes asked me, If
I chose to be by myself; I said, Yes, with all my heart, if she pleased.
Well, said she, after to-night you shall. I asked her for more paper;
and she gave me a bottle of ink, eight sheets of paper, which she said
was all her store, (for now she would get me to write for her to our
master, if she had occasion,) and six pens, with a piece of sealing wax.
This looks mighty well. She pressed me, when she came to bed, very much, to give encouragement
to Mr. Williams, and said many things in his behalf; and blamed my
shyness to him. I told her, I was resolved to give no encouragement,
till I had talked to my father and mother. She said, he fancied I
thought of somebody else, or I could never be so insensible. I assured
her, as I could do very safely, that there was not a man on earth I
wished to have: and as to Mr. Williams, he might do better by far: and I
had proposed so much happiness in living with my poor father and mother,
that I could not think of any scheme of life with pleasure, till I had
tried that. I asked her for my money; and she said, it was above in her
strong box, but that I should have it to-morrow. All these things look
well, as I said. Mr. Williams would go home this night, though late, because he would
despatch a messenger to you with a letter he had proposed from himself,
and my packet. But pray don't encourage him, as I said; for he is much
too heady and precipitate as to this matter, in my way of thinking;
though, to be sure, he is a very good man, and I am much obliged to him. Monday morning. Alas-a-day! we have bad news from poor Mr. Williams. He has had a sad
mischance; fallen among rogues in his way home last night: but by good
chance has saved my papers. This is the account he gives of it to Mrs.
Jewkes: 'GOOD MRS. JEWKES, 'I have had a sore misfortune in going from you. When I had got as
near the town as the dam, and was going to cross the wooden bridge, two
fellows got hold of me, and swore bitterly they would kill me, if I did
not give them what I had. They rummaged my pockets, and took from me
my snuff-box, my seal-ring, and half a guinea, and some silver, and
halfpence; also my handkerchief, and two or three letters I had in
my pockets. By good fortune, the letter Mrs. Pamela gave me was in
my bosom, and so that escaped but they bruised my head and face, and
cursing me for having no more money, tipped me into the dam, crying, be
there, parson, till to-morrow! My shins and knees were bruised much
in the fall against one of the stumps; and I had like to have been
suffocated in water and mud. To be sure, I shan't be able to stir out
this day or two: for I am a frightful spectacle! My hat and wig I was
forced to leave behind me, and go home, a mile and a half, without; but
they were found next morning, and brought me, with my snuff-box, which
the rogues must have dropped. My cassock is sadly torn, as is my band.
To be sure, I was much frightened, for a robbery in these parts has not
been known many years. Diligent search is making after the rogues. My
humble respects to good Mrs. Pamela: if she pities my misfortunes, I
shall be the sooner well, and fit to wait on her and you. This did not
hinder me in writing a letter, though with great pain, as I do this, (To
be sure this good man can keep no secret!) and sending it away by a man
and horse, this morning. I am, good Mrs. Jewkes, 'Your most obliged humble servant.' 'God be praised it is no worse! And I find I have got no cold, though
miserably wet from top to toe. My fright, I believe, prevented me from
catching cold: for I was not rightly myself for some hours, and know
not how I got home. I will write a letter of thanks this night, if I am
able, to my kind patron, for his inestimable goodness to me. I wish I
was enabled to say all I hope, with regard to the better part of his
bounty to me, incomparable Mrs. Pamela.' The wicked brute fell a laughing, when she had read this letter, till
her fat sides shook. Said she, I can but think how the poor parson
looked, after parting with his pretty mistress in such high spirits,
when he found himself at the bottom of the dam! And what a figure he
must cut in his tattered band and cassock, and without a hat and wig,
when he got home. I warrant, added she, he was in a sweet pickle!--I
said, I thought it was very barbarous to laugh at such a misfortune; but
she replied, As he was safe, she laughed; otherwise she would have
promising, she said. I heeded not her reflections; but as I have been used to causes for
mistrusts, I cannot help saying, that I don't like this thing: And their
taking his letters most alarms me.--How happy it was they missed my
packet! I knew not what to think of it!--But why should I let every
accident break my peace? Yet it will do so, while I stay here. Mrs. Jewkes is mightily at me, to go with her in the chariot, to visit
Mr. Williams. She is so officious to bring on the affair between us,
that, being a cunning, artful woman, I know not what to make of it: I
have refused her absolutely; urging, that except I intended to encourage
his suit, I ought not to do it. And she is gone without me. I have strange temptations to get away in her absence, for all these
fine appearances. 'Tis sad to have nobody to advise with!--I know not
what to do. But, alas for me! I have no money, if I should, to buy any
body's civilities, or to pay for necessaries or lodgings. But I'll go
into the garden, and resolve afterwards---I have been in the garden, and to the back-door: and there I stood, my
heart up at my mouth. I could not see I was watched; so this looks
well. But if any thing should go bad afterwards, I should never forgive
myself, for not taking this opportunity. Well, I will go down again,
and see if all is clear, and how it looks out at the back-door in the
pasture. To be sure, there is witchcraft in this house; and I believe Lucifer is
bribed, as well as all about me, and is got into the shape of that nasty
grim bull to watch me!--For I have been again, and ventured to open the
door, and went out about a bow-shot into the pasture; but there stood
that horrid bull, staring me full in the face, with fiery saucer eyes,
as I thought. So I got in again, for fear he should come at me. Nobody
saw me, however.--Do you think there are such things as witches and
spirits? If there be, I believe, in my heart, Mrs. Jewkes has got
this bull of her side. But yet, what could I do without money, or a
friend'--O this wicked woman! to trick me so! Every thing, man, woman,
and beast, is in a plot against your poor Pamela, I think!--Then I
know not one step of the way, nor how far to any house or cottage;
and whether I could gain protection, if I got to a house: And now the
robbers are abroad too, I may run into as great danger as I want to
escape; nay, greater much, if these promising appearances hold: And sure
my master cannot be so black as that they should not!--What can I do?--I
have a good mind to try for it once more; but then I may be pursued and
taken: and it will be worse for me; and this wicked woman will beat me,
and take my shoes away, and lock me up. But, after all, if my master should mean well, he can't be angry at
my fears, if I should escape; and nobody can blame me; and I can more
easily be induced, with you, when all my apprehensions are over,
to consider his proposal of Mr. Williams, than I could here; and he
pretends, as you have read in his letter, he will leave me to my choice:
Why then should I be afraid? I will go down again, I think! But yet my
heart misgives me, because of the difficulties before me, in escaping;
and being so poor and so friendless!--O good God! the preserver of the
innocent! direct me what to do! Well, I have just now a sort of strange persuasion upon me, that I
ought to try to get way, and leave the issue to Providence. So, once
more--I'll see, at least, if this bull be still there. Alack-a-day! what a fate is this! I have not the courage to go, neither
can I think to stay. But I must resolve. The gardener was in sight last
time; so made me come up again. But I'll contrive to send him out of the
way, if I can:--For if I never should have such another opportunity,
I could not forgive myself. Once more I'll venture. God direct my
footsteps, and make smooth my path and my way to safety! Well, here I am, come back again! frightened, like a fool, out of all my
purposes! O how terrible every thing appears to me! I had got twice as
far again, as I was before, out of the back-door: and I looked and saw
the bull, as I thought, between me and the door; and another bull coming
towards me the other way: Well, thought I, here is double witchcraft, to
be sure! Here is the spirit of my master in one bull, and Mrs. Jewkes's
in the other. And now I am gone, to be sure! O help! cried I, like a
fool, and ran back to the door, as swift as if I flew. When I had got
the door in my hand, I ventured to look back, to see if these supposed
bulls were coming; and I saw they were only two poor cows, a grazing in
thing is so frightful to me, I find I am not fit to think of my escape:
for I shall be as much frightened at the first strange man that I meet
with: and I am persuaded that fear brings one into more dangers, than
the caution, that goes along with it, delivers one from. I then locked the door, and put the key in my pocket, and was in a sad
quandary; but I was soon determined; for the maid Nan came in sight,
and asked, if any thing was the matter, that I was so often up and down
stairs? God forgive me, (but I had a sad lie at my tongue's end,) said
I; Though Mrs. Jewkes is sometimes a little hard upon me, yet I know not
where I am without her: I go up, and I come down to walk about in the
garden; and, not having her, know scarcely what to do with myself. Ay,
said the ideot, she is main good company, madam, no wonder you miss her. So here I am again, and here likely to be; for I have no courage to help
myself any where else. O why are poor foolish maidens tried with such
dangers, when they have such weak minds to grapple with them!--I
will, since it is so, hope the best: but yet I cannot but observe how
grievously every thing makes against me: for here are the robbers;
though I fell not into their hands myself, yet they gave me as much
terror, and had as great an effect upon my fears, as if I had: And here
is the bull; it has as effectually frightened me, as if I had been hurt
by it instead of the cook-maid; and so these joined together, as I may
say, to make a very dastard of me. But my folly was the worst of all,
because that deprived me of my money: for had I had that, I believe I
should have ventured both the bull and the robbers. Monday afternoon. So, Mrs. Jewkes is returned from her visit: Well, said she, I would have
you set your heart at rest; for Mr. Williams will do very well again. He
is not half so bad as he fancied. O these scholars, said she, they have
not the hearts of mice! He has only a few scratches on his face; which,
said she, I suppose he got by grappling among the gravel at the bottom
of the dam, to try to find a hole in the ground, to hide himself from
the robbers. His shin and his knee are hardly to be seen to ail any
thing. He says in his letter, he was a frightful spectacle: He might be
so, indeed, when he first came in a doors; but he looks well enough now:
and, only for a few groans now and then, when he thinks of his danger,
I see nothing is the matter with him. So, Mrs. Pamela, said she, I would
have you be very easy about it. I am glad of it, said I, for all your
jokes, to Mrs. Jewkes. Well, said she, he talks of nothing but you: and when I told him I would
fain have persuaded you to come with me, the man was out of his wits
with his gratitude to me: and so has laid open all his heart to me, and
told me all that has passed, and was contriving between you two. This
alarmed me prodigiously; and the rather, as I saw, by two or three
instances, that his honest heart could keep nothing, believing every one
as undesigning as himself. I said, but yet with a heavy heart, Ah! Mrs.
Jewkes, Mrs. Jewkes, this might have done with me, had he had any thing
that he could have told you of. But you know well enough, that had we
been disposed, we had no opportunity for it, from your watchful care and
circumspection. No, said she, that's very true, Mrs. Pamela; not so
much as for that declaration that he owned before me, he had found
opportunity, for all my watchfulness, to make you. Come, come, said she,
no more of these shams with me! You have an excellent head-piece for
your years; but may be I am as cunning as you.--However, said she,
all is well now; because my watchments are now over, by my master's
direction. How have you employed yourself in my absence? I was so troubled at what might have passed between Mr. Williams and
her, that I could not hide it; and she said, Well, Mrs. Pamela, since
all matters are likely to be so soon and so happily ended, let me advise
you to be a little less concerned at his discoveries; and make me your
confidant, as he has done, and I shall think you have some favour for
me, and reliance upon me; and perhaps you might not repent it. She was so earnest, that I mistrusted she did this to pump me; and I
knew how, now, to account for her kindness to Mr. Williams in her visit
to him; which was only to get out of him what she could. Why, Mrs.
Jewkes, said I, is all this fishing about for something, where there
is nothing, if there be an end of your watchments, as you call them?
Nothing, said she, but womanish curiosity, I'll assure you; for one is
Well, said I, pray let me know what he has said; and then I'll give you
an answer to your curiosity. I don't care, said she, whether you do or
not for I have as much as I wanted from him; and I despair of getting
out of you any thing you ha'n't a mind I should know, my little cunning
dear.--Well, said I, let him have said what he would, I care not: for I
am sure he can say no harm of me; and so let us change the talk. I was the easier, indeed, because, for all her pumps, she gave no hints
of the key and the door, etc. which, had he communicated to her, she
would not have forborne giving me a touch of.--And so we gave up one
another, as despairing to gain our ends of each other. But I am sure he
must have said more than he should.--And I am the more apprehensive all
is not right, because she has now been actually, these two hours, shut
up a writing; though she pretended she had given me up all her stores
of papers, etc. and that I should write for her. I begin to wish I had
ventured every thing and gone off, when I might. O when will this state
of doubt and uneasiness end! She has just been with me, and says she shall send a messenger to
Bedfordshire; and he shall carry a letter of thanks for me, if I will
write it for my master's favour to me. Indeed, said I, I have no thanks
to give, till I am with my father and mother: and besides, I sent a
letter, as you know; but have had no answer to it. She said, she thought
that his letter to Mr. Williams was sufficient; and the least I could
do was to thank him, if but in two lines. No need of it, said I; for I
don't intend to have Mr. Williams: What then is that letter to me? Well,
said she, I see thou art quite unfathomable! I don't like all this. O my foolish fears of bulls and robbers!--For now
all my uneasiness begins to double upon me. O what has this incautious
man said! That, no doubt, is the subject of her long letter. I will close this day's writing, with just saying, that she is mighty
silent and reserved, to what she was: and says nothing but No, or Yes,
to what I ask. Something must be hatching, I doubt!--I the rather think
so, because I find she does not keep her word with me, about lying
by myself, and my money; to both which points she returned suspicious
answers, saying, as to the one, Why, you are mighty earnest for your
money; I shan't run away with it. And to the other, Good-lack! you need
not be so willing, as I know of, to part with me for a bed-fellow, till
you are sure of one you like better. This cut me to the heart; and, at
the same time, stopped my mouth. Tuesday, Wednesday. Mr. Williams has been here; but we have had no opportunity to talk
together: He seemed confounded at Mrs. Jewkes's change of temper, and
reservedness, after her kind visit, and their freedom with one another,
and much more at what I am going to tell you. He asked, If I would take
a turn in the garden with Mrs. Jewkes and him. No, said she, I can't go.
Said he, May not Mrs. Pamela take a walk?--No, said she; I desire she
won't. Why, Mrs. Jewkes? said he: I am afraid I have somehow disobliged
you. Not at all, replied she; but I suppose you will soon be at liberty
to walk together as much as you please: and I have sent a messenger for
my last instructions, about this and more weighty matters; and when they
come I shall leave you to do as you both will; but, till then, it is no
matter how little you are together. This alarmed us both; and he seemed
quite struck of a heap, and put on, as I thought, a self-accusing
countenance. So I went behind her back, and held my two hands together,
flat, with a bit of paper, I had, between them, and looked at him:
and he seemed to take me as I intended; intimating the renewing of the
correspondence by the tiles. I left them both together, and retired to my closet to write a letter
for the tiles; but having no time for a copy, I will give you the
substance only. I expostulated with him on his too great openness and easiness to fall
into Mrs. Jewkes's snares: told him my apprehensions of foul play; and
gave briefly the reasons which moved me: begged to know what he had
said; and intimated, that I thought there was the highest reason to
resume our prospect of the escape by the back-door. I put this in the
usual place in the evening; and now wait with impatience for an answer. Thursday. I have the following answer: