Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 6 (24 page)

All the house in my interest, and every one in it not only engaging to intimidate and assist, as occasion shall offer, but staking all their experience upon my success, if it be not my own fault, what must be the consequence?

This, Jack, however, shall be her last trial; and if she behave as nobly in and after this second attempt (all her senses about her) as she has done after the first, she will come out an angel upon full proof, in spite of man, woman, and devil: then shall there be an end of all her sufferings. I will then renounce that vanquished devil, and reform. And if any vile machination start up, presuming to mislead me, I will sooner stab it in my heart, as it rises, than give way to it.

A few hours will now decide all. But whatever be the event, I shall be too busy to write again, till I get to M. Hall.

Mean time, I am in strange agitations. I must suppress them, if possible, before I venture into her presence.--My heart bounces my bosom from the table. I will lay down my pen, and wholly resign to its impulses.

I thought I should not have had either time or inclination to write another line before I got to M. Hall. But, having the first, must find the last; since I can neither sleep, nor do any thing but write, if I can do that. I am most confoundedly out of humour. The reason let it follow; if it will follow--nor preparation for it from me.

I tried by gentleness and love to soften--What?--Marble. A heart incapable either of love or gentleness. Her past injuries for ever in her head. Ready to receive a favour; the permission to go to Hampstead: but neither to deserve it, nor return any. So my scheme of the gentle kind was soon given over.

I then wanted to provoke her: like a coward boy, who waits for the first blow before he can persuade himself to fight, I half challenged her to challenge or defy me. She seemed aware of her danger; and would not directly brave my resentment: but kept such a middle course, that I neither could find a pretence to offend, nor reason to hope: yet she believed my tale, that her uncle would come to Kentish-town, and seemed not to apprehend that Tomlinson was an impostor.

She was very uneasy, upon the whole, in my company: wanted often to break from me: yet so held me to my purpose of permitting her to go to Hampstead, that I knew not how to get off it; although it was impossible, in my precarious situation with her, to think of performing it.

In this situation; the women ready to assist; and, if I proceeded not, as ready to ridicule me; what had I left me, but to pursue the concerted scheme, and to seek a pretence to quarrel with her, in order to revoke my promised permission, and to convince her that I would not be upbraided as the most brutal of ravishers for nothing?

I had agreed with the women, that if I could not find a pretence in her presence to begin my operations, the note should lie in my way, and I was to pick it up, soon after her retiring from me. But I began to doubt at near ten o'clock, (so earnest was she to leave me, suspecting my over-warm behaviour to her, and eager grasping of her hand two or three times, with eye-strings, as I felt, on the strain, while her eyes showed uneasiness and apprehension,) that if she actually retired for the night, it might be a chance whether it would be easy to come at her again. Loth, therefore, to run such a risk, I stept out a little after ten, with intent to alter the preconcerted disposition a little; saying I would attend her again instantly. But as I returned I met her at the door, intending to withdraw for the night. I could not persuade her to go back: nor had I presence of mind (so full of complaisance as I was to her just before) to stay her by force: so she slid through my hands into her own apartment. I had nothing to do, therefore, but to let my former concert take place.

I should have promised (but care not for order of time, connection, or any thing else) that, between eight and nine in the evening, another servant of Lord M. on horseback came, to desire me to carry down with me Dr. S., the old peer having been once (in extremis, as they judge he is now) relieved and reprieved by him. I sent and engaged the doctor to accompany me down: and am to call upon him by four this morning: or the devil should have both my Lord and the Doctor, if I'd stir till I got all made up.

Poke thy damn'd nose forward into the event, if thou wilt--Curse me if thou shalt have it till its proper time and place. And too soon then.

She had hardly got into her chamber, but I found a little paper, as I was going into mine, which I took up; and opening it, (for it was carefully pinned in another paper,) what should it be but a promissory note, given as a bribe, with a further promise of a diamond ring, to induce Dorcas to favour her mistress's escape?

How my temper changed in a moment!--Ring, ring, ring, ring, I my bell, with a violence enough to break the string, and as if the house were on fire.

Every devil frighted into active life: the whole house in an uproar. Up runs Will.--Sir--Sir--Sir!--Eyes goggling, mouth distended--Bid the damn'd toad Dorcas come hither, (as I stood at the stair-head,) in a horrible rage, and out of breath, cried I.

In sight came the trembling devil--but standing aloof, from the report made her by Will. of the passion I was in, as well as from what she had heard.

Flash came out my sword immediately; for I had it ready on--Cursed, confounded, villanous bribery and corruption----

Up runs she to her lady's door, screaming out for safety and protection.

Good your honour, interposed Will., for God's sake!--O Lord, O Lord!--
receiving a good cuff.--

Take that, varlet, for saving the ungrateful wretch from my vengeance.

Wretch! I intended to say; but if it were some other word of like ending, passion must be my excuse.

Up ran two or three of the sisterhood, What's the matter! What's the
matter!

The matter! (for still my beloved opened not the door; on the contrary, drew another bolt,) This abominable Dorcas!--(call her aunt up!--let her see what a traitress she has placed about me!--and let her bring the toad to answer for herself)--has taken a bribe, a provision for life, to betray her trust; by that means to perpetuate a quarrel between a man and his wife, and frustrate for ever all hopes of reconciliation between us!

Let me perish, Belford, if I have patience to proceed with the farce!

***

If I must resume, I must----

Up came the aunt, puffing and blowing--As she hoped for mercy, she was not privy to it! She never knew such a plotting, perverse lady in her life!--Well might servants be at the pass they were, when such ladies as Mrs. Lovelace made no conscience of corrupting them. For her part she desired no mercy for the wretch; no niece of her's, if she were not faithful to her trust!--But what was the proof?----

She was shown the paper----

But too evident!--Cursed, cursed toad, devil, jade, passed from each mouth:--and the vileness of the corrupted, and the unworthiness of the corruptress, were inveighed against.

Up we all went, passing the lady's door into the dining-room, to proceed
to trial.----

Stamp, stamp, stamp up, each on her heels; rave, rave, rave, every tongue
----

Bring up the creature before us all this instant!----

And would she have got out of the house, say you?--

These the noises and the speeches as we clattered by the door of the fair
bribress.

Up was brought Dorcas (whimpering) between two, both bawling out--You must go--You shall go--'Tis fit you should answer for yourself--You are a discredit to all worthy servants--as they pulled and pushed her up stairs.--She whining, I cannot see his honour--I cannot look so good and so generous a gentleman in the face--O how shall I bear my aunt's ravings?----

Come up, and be d--n'd--Bring her forward, her imperial judge--What a plague, it is the detection, not the crime, that confounds you. You could be quiet enough for days together, as I see by the date, under the villany. Tell me, ungrateful devil, tell me who made the first advances?

Ay, disgrace to my family and blood, cried the old one--tell his honour-- tell the truth!--Who made the first advances?----

Ay, cursed creature, cried Sally, who made the first advances?

I have betrayed one trust already!--O let me not betray another!--My lady is a good lady!--O let not her suffer!--

Tell all you know. Tell the whole truth, Dorcas, cried Polly Horton.-- His honour loves his lady too well to make her suffer much: little as she requites his love!----

Every body sees that, cried Sally--too well, indeed, for his honour, I
was going to say.

Till now, I thought she deserved my love--But to bribe a servant thus, who she supposed had orders to watch her steps, for fear of another elopement; and to impute that precaution to me as a crime!--Yet I must love her--Ladies, forgive my weakness!----

Curse upon my grimaces!--if I have patience to repeat them!--But thou shalt have it all--thou canst not despise me more than I despise myself!

***

But suppose, Sir, said Sally, you have my lady and the wench face to face! You see she cares not to confess.

O my carelessness! cried Dorcas--Don't let my poor lady suffer!--Indeed, if you all knew what I know, you would say her ladyship has been cruelly treated--

See, see, see, see!--repeatedly, every one at once--Only sorry for the detection, as your honour said--not for the fault.

Cursed creature, and devilish creature, from every mouth.

Your lady won't, she dare not come out to save you, cried Sally; though it is more his honour's mercy, than your desert, if he does not cut your vile throat this instant.

Say, repeated Polly, was it your lady that made the first advances, or was it you, you creature----

If the lady had so much honour, bawled the mother, excuse me, so--Excuse me, Sir, [confound the old wretch! she had like to have said son!]--If the lady has so much honour, as we have supposed, she will appear to vindicate a poor servant, misled, as she has been, by such large promises!--But I hope, Sir, you will do them both justice: I hope you will!--Good lack!--Good lack! clapping her hands together, to grant her every thing she could ask--to indulge her in her unworthy hatred to my poor innocent house!--to let her go to Hampstead, though your honour told us, you could get no condescension from her; no, not the least--O Sir, O Sir--I hope--I hope--if your lady will not come out--I hope you will find a way to hear this cause in her presence. I value not my doors on such an occasion as this. Justice I ever loved. I desire you will come to the bottom of it in clearance to me. I'll be sworn I had no privity in this black corruption.

Just then we heard the lady's door, unbar, unlock, unbolt----

Now, Sir!

Now, Mr. Lovelace!

Now, Sir! from every encouraging mouth!----

But, O Jack! Jack! Jack! I can write no more!

***

If you must have it all, you must!

Now, Belford, see us all sitting in judgment, resolved to punish the fair bribress--I, and the mother, the hitherto dreaded mother, the nieces Sally, Polly, the traitress Dorcas, and Mabell, a guard, as it were, over Dorcas, that she might not run away, and hide herself:--all pre-determined, and of necessity pre-determined, from the journey I was going to take, and my precarious situation with her--and hear her unbolt, unlock, unbar, the door; then, as it proved afterwards, put the key into the lock on the outside, lock the door, and put it in her pocket--Will. I knew, below, who would give me notice, if, while we were all above, she should mistake her way, and go down stairs, instead of coming into the dining-room: the street-door also doubly secured, and every shutter to the windows round the house fastened, that no noise or screaming should be heard--[such was the brutal preparation]--and then hear her step towards us, and instantly see her enter among us, confiding in her own innocence; and with a majesty in her person and manner, that is natural to her; but which then shone out in all its glory!--Every tongue silent, every eye awed, every heart quaking, mine, in a particular manner sunk, throbless, and twice below its usual region, to once at my throat:--a shameful recreant:--She silent too, looking round her, first on me; then on the mother, no longer fearing her; then on Sally, Polly, and the culprit Dorcas!--such the glorious power of innocence exerted at that awful moment!

She would have spoken, but could not, looking down my guilt into confusion. A mouse might have been heard passing over the floor: her own light feet and rustling silks could not have prevented it; for she seemed to tread air, and to be all soul. She passed backwards and forwards, now towards me, now towards the door several times, before speech could get the better of indignation; and at last, after twice or thrice hemming to recover her articulate voice--'O thou contemptible and abandoned Lovelace, thinkest thou that I see not through this poor villanous plot of thine, and of these thy wicked accomplices?

'Thou, woman, [looking at the mother] once my terror! always my dislike! but now my detestation! shouldst once more (for thine perhaps was the preparation) have provided for me intoxicating potions, to rob me of my senses----

'And then, thus, wretch, [turning to me,] mightest thou more securely have depended upon such a low contrivance as this!

'And ye, vile women, who perhaps have been the ruin, body and soul, of hundreds of innocents, (you show me how, in full assembly,) know, that I am not married--ruined as I am, by your help, I bless God, I am not married to this miscreant--and I have friends that will demand my honour at your hands!--and to whose authority I will apply; for none has this man over me. Look to it then, what farther insults you offer me, or incite him to offer me. I am a person, though thus vilely betrayed, of rank and fortune. I never will be his; and, to your utter ruin, will find friends to pursue you: and now I have this full proof of your detestable wickedness, and have heard your base incitements, will have no mercy upon you!'

They could not laugh at the poor figure I made.--Lord! how every devil, conscience-shaken, trembled!--