The Wayfarers

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by J. C. Snaith


  CHAPTER XVI

  WE ARE SO SORELY TRIED THAT WE FAIN HAVE RECOURSE TO OUR WITS

  Hand-in-hand we trudged along valiantly. The rain came, at first athin, hesitating haze, then with a quicker patter and a briskerresolution, which presently settled into a steady sullen all-nightdown-pour. We were very well shod, happily, and we drew our cloakstightly about us, and turned our faces to the deluge. To pass thenight in the open air in weather of this sort was impossible, but wewere like to be in the predicament of that first evening out of London.Once more were we wholly ignorant of the way, were in great discomfortof body, and had no wherewithal by which we could relieve it. We wereagain called on to endure all the discomforts inseparable from our lot.The only sound from the great darkness that covered the land was thesquish of the water under our feet, and the ceaseless twitter of therain on the road. Although our clothes were a steaming burden, andclung about us in a sop, we tried not to be daunted. We pursued ourway through mud and puddles, resisting the hunger and weariness thatcrept so insidiously upon us. And whatever the outward conditions ofour state I don't think we minded greatly. The example of one anotherkept us from flagging, even as the possession of one another kept usfrom complaining.

  At last, having dragged our weary limbs up a steep hill, and havingcrested the brow, we saw all at once quite a number of lights gleamingbelow in the valley. It was plainly a considerable place, to judge bythem; and though it was in our best interests to keep away from alltowns and villages of any size and importance, on this occasion we didnot pay much heed to these scruples, but went boldly and gladly towardsit.

  "But what shall we profit when we get there?" says Cynthia. "We havebut a matter of sevenpence between us, which will avail us littleenough for food and a lodging. And I am sure there will be nobody tobe found who will extend their charity to such a pair of drenchedbeggars as we are. Oh, what can we possibly do!"

  I pondered on this hard problem for a full minute. Cynthia's gloomyviews were hopelessly right. We were indeed a pair of beggars,homeless and destitute. But we could not walk about all through thatwretched wet night on the open road. We must find some asylum for ourweariness, if only a cow-hovel as it had been formerly. This night,however, put us in no mind for that kind of thing. We longed for theluxuries of a bright fire at which to dry our clothes, a warm supper atwhich to defeat the dismal weather, and a snug bed afterwards. But howcould we make sevenpence go so far? Beat my brains as I might, I couldfind no solution to this hard problem. Yet we both yearned for thesecomforts so keenly, that at last we came to the resolve that we wouldobtain them by hook or by crook, if not by fair means, by those moredesperate, and be hanged to the consequences! Accordingly, when wearrived at the first house in the place, I thrilled Cynthia by boldlyknocking on the door, and thrilled her further by more boldly askingthe title of the principal inn. As it bore the promising name of theAngel, and was less than half-a-mile along that very road, and was saidto be a remarkably good inn, we were encouraged to push on in search ofit.

  "Oh, Jack," says poor Cynthia nervously, "whatever will theconsequences be? It must be quite a public place; the landlord willcertainly ask to see our money before he serves us, such a poor vagrantpair must we seem in the eyes of everybody; some of those horrid BowStreet runners may be there too, or possibly my father. And if we takethat for which we are unable to pay, we may get sent to prison, or----"

  "Put in the stocks," says I.

  Cynthia shuddered, and then laughed a little.

  "I don't think," says she, "we shall ever fear that indignity again.At least we came triumphantly through that ordeal."

  "Merely by being bold," says I, "and the exercise of our sense ofmirth. And that is what will be demanded of us in the adventure thatis before us. Let us play our parts as bravely here, and I amconvinced that we shall come out of it just as successfully. Let us bebold and take our courage in our hands, and I'll answer for it we'llget a supper, a fire, a bottle, and a bed, and no questions asked. Butonly a sufficient hardihood can do it, do you understand? We must notbear ourselves as a pair of beggars at this inn, but rather as personsof consideration and great place. You must be daughter to the duke, myprettiness, and I will be a devil of a peer."

  "That is all very fine, Jack," says Cynthia, who on occasion could bevery shrewd, "but how are we to reconcile our lost and destitute statewith our exalted degree?

  "A most happy idea," says I, suddenly seized with the same. "I have itexactly. We must be a pair of travellers who have been set on by ahighwayman, turned out of our carriage, and robbed of all our money andvaluables."

  "Yes," urged Cynthia, "but what carriage can we have to show?"

  "We can provide for that too," says I, in the throes of invention."Our servants were so affrighted at the highwayman's appearance, thatthey made off pell-mell, carriage and all, without once stopping tolook behind them."

  "A not very plausible story," urged Cynthia again.

  "I agree with you there," says I, "but we must strengthen any defectsin our tale by the vigour and sincerity of its narration. We must playour parts at the very height of our ability, and the landlord, whoeverhe is, shall be put to it very hard to catch us tripping. A bolddemeanour and a loud voice go a long way in these days. I can smellthat supper already, and I feel my feet to be toasting before the warmblaze. And here we are to be sure under the very sign of the house, asgoodly a country hostel i'faith as I ever saw, at which to arrive on apouring wet night."

  Forsooth we were already come to the door. By its substantial,well-lit, comfortable look, and the space in front of it, it had theappearance of a coaching inn. And for that matter it did not call formuch observation to prove such to be the case. It stood at thejunction of four roads. The one that had carried us thither was aby-road, running at this point across one of the main coachinghighways. When we discovered this to be the case we paused a moment.There was a degree of publicity about such a hostelry that we couldhave very well done without. We were certainly taking a great risklest our enemies should enter it; and again, the charges were likely tobe high. Yet it took only a brief reflection to decide us. We wereutterly cold, hungry and jaded, our cloaks were soaked with rain, andthe mud rose above our ankles. Therefore leaving discretion outside inthe rain, we entered boldly.

  The chamber we found ourselves in was in singular and delightfulcontrast to the conditions from which we had emerged. It was brightlylit, a rare wood fire crackled and sputtered on the hearth, and threwits shadows on the oaken panellings. An incomparable smell of cookerypervaded it, and a table was laid for supper. The whole apartment wasspotlessly clean, replete with comfort, and altogether was a model ofwhat such a room should be in an inn of the better sort.

  The room had only one occupant; he, a gentleman who sat at his ease,waiting for his supper in a chair by the brisk fire. He was awonderfully handsome man, young, bold-eyed, and with a look of gayimpudence more winning than displeasing. He threw up his eyes as soonas we entered and frankly took our measure. He went over us from topto toe with the frank audacity of a pretty woman or a child. He wasplainly a little puzzled by us. He could not reconcile our appearancewith our address. We must indeed have looked to a stranger at thatmoment the most draggle-tailed couple that ever came out of Bridewell.But we had got all our best town airs about us too, and the contrastbetween our state and our address must have been ludicrous, truly.

  We had hardly got in to the room ere the landlord came bustlingforward. His mode of assessing the character of his guests was moreperemptory. We were in a wretched plight, and had come afoot withoutbaggage and unattended. He gave us one shrewd contemptuous glance andsays:

  "You are come to the wrong house, are you not, master? The Chequers, abit further along the road to your left, is more in your style, I'mthinking. The quality comes to this house, dy'e see?"

  "God bless my soul," I roared, "was there ever such effrontery! Why,you pot-bellied ruffian, I would knock you down
as flat as your own alewere it not for fatigue and the presence of a lady. The wrong house,is it? Do you take us for a pair of pickers and stealers then, youbeer-barrel! Call a chambermaid this minute and have her ladyshiptaken to the best bedroom you have got in the place, or I will rub myboots into the small of your fat back, upon mine honour so I will."

  A less forcible method of address might have permitted of acontroversy, in which we should have everything to lose and nothingwhatever to gain. But this fine assault, this taking of the landlordby storm, completely disarmed him. In an instant his demeanourcompletely changed, as is usual with those of his kidney. From thecontemptuous critic he was transformed into the grovelling lackey. Onthe instant he was ours to command. With many bows and congees he wassoon inquiring what we would have for supper, and which wine we wouldprefer. He also presumed that our luggage and attendants wouldpresently arrive.

  "Devil a bit of it," says I. "Neither one nor the other will you seethis night. Our wretched rogues have had such a fright that I will betmy leg they never draw rein until they make the blessed town o' London.A murrain upon them, and may they die of a vertigo!"

  The landlord clasped his palms in a fine attitude of humility,curiosity and awe.

  "Lord save us!" says he, "what can have happened to your lordship?"

  "Why, something that is always happening to us, of course," says I,with a great air of a glib matter of fact. "One of these pestilentialhighwaymen stopped us and tried us on this very road, not five milesoff. Cocked his ugly mug through the carriage-window as cool as achurch, and had us step out of our cushions into the pouring rain.Took our money and jewels off us before you could say your prayers.And not content with all this, burn me for a heretick! if out of purewantonness this villain did not discharge his barker across the nose ofthe leader, and away they flew downhill to the devil before we couldjump in again. They are miles away ere this, and lord knows how weshall contrive to return to town."

  I suppose there must have been a nice tone of verisimilitude in thistissue of lies, or a ring of truth in my tone, or an expression ofperfect veracity in my eyes, for the landlord put never anotherquestion to us upon that matter, but accepted my heart-moving tale witha mien of deep solicitude. I think I must be unusually gifted in thisparticular, since this bold story worked on his credulity to such aremarkable degree. And either our supposed misadventures or my commandof great oaths must have invested us in the landlord's mind with theindisputable evidences of high quality, for his obeisances grewprofounder for the recital, and though by our own confession we had nota penny about us with which to requite him, he proposed to entertain usto the utmost of his capacity.

  "Your lordship and your ladyship will doubtless prefer an entirelyprivate apartment in which to sup," says he. "If you will very kindlybear with this one while a fire is lighted in another, I will go aboutit at once, and also prepare you as good a meal as it is in the powerof this poor place to furnish."

  However, as I was rather taken than otherwise with the appearance ofthe solitary occupant of this room, and even more so by the rare warmthand comfort of it, I was fain to suggest that if our company was notdisagreeable to the present occupant, we should be well content to staywhere we were, and take our supper in his society. And, indeed, thefrank, amused, wonderfully naive countenance he turned on theinnkeeper, and the air of perfect good-breeding with which he asked thehonour of our company at his table, promised excellent companionship tofollow. I having gratefully accepted his offer, he very politelyinsisted that I should choose the wine, adding that our host kept avery tolerable cellar, and paid a particular compliment to the Burgundy.

  In a variety of amiable ways we were very well advanced in acompanionship long before supper was served. Our friend, in additionto his handsome looks and elegant manners, appeared to have a good dealof knowledge of the world. His tastes, too, seemed extremely refined.He was well versed in Dryden, Virgil, and Shakespeare, and passed thehighest encomiums on the genius of Mr. Henry Fielding. He contributedsome excellently apposite remarks to the long-standing controversyrespecting the merits of the author of _Tom Jones_ in comparison withthose of the author of _Clarissa_. To my extreme gratification hedeclared strongly for the former, whereon Mrs. Cynthia, following thefashion of her sex, took up the cudgels very warmly for the latter.

  "My dear madam," says our friend, laughing in his musical tones, "thedifference between those two authors is that between honest, searchingbrandy punch and tea twice watered with a good deal of sugar in it."

  "That is doubtless the case," says Cynthia. "But whereas the one maydegrade a man to the level of a beast,"--I will do her the justice ofsaying she laid no particular stress on this simile, neither did shelook at me, greatly to my relief--"the other is perfectly harmless,wholesome and stimulating. Mr. Richardson's morality hath never beenimpeached, but Mr. Fielding's hath never been defended."

  "It is not always the person who lifts up his voice the loudest, madam,who is the most worthy to be heard," says our friend gravely. "Nor isit he who makes the best parade of his virtue who is invariably themost valuable member of society. I dare say Mr. Fielding would blushas much to be found out in a good act as Mr. Richardson would to becaught in a bad one; but for all that I would prefer to recommendmyself to the author of the so-called loose and scandalous _Tom Jones_,than he of the so-called high-toned _Clarissa_, were I in need of adinner and a guinea."

  "Sir," says I, "you have put the gist of the matter excellently. Youare one of the very few persons I have met who hath had the wit to drawthis essential distinction between the characters of two such diversewriters. What the world is for ever failing to apprehend is that truemorality, like true religion, has nothing to do with the profession ofit; and that man who as often as not best serves his species is he wholeast pretends to do so."

  Yet no sooner had I ventured to confirm the wisdom of my friend with myown opinion, than my dear Mrs. Cynthia began to take my interference asa personal matter aimed at her rather than at the argument. Thus in atruly feminine fashion she got upon her dignity and invested herchampionship of Mr. Richardson, and more especially her animadversionof Mr. Fielding, with several palpable references to my recentbehaviour in his company. At least the unease of my conscience putthis construction upon her replies, although when I reflected upon thematter afterwards I could find no grounds except those of my own guiltyknowledge for supposing that she was at all acquainted with our meeting.

  It was a real relief none the less when our heated discourse onmorality was at last interrupted by the arrival of the first dish, ahighly delectable loin of pork flanked with sage and onions. We satdown in much comfort and did ample justice to the fare. Our friend'smanners at the table had all the elegance of good-breeding, whilst hisconversation under the benign influences of excellent dishes and goodwine was as entertaining and various as any one need listen to. He wasat a loss on no subject whatever; and there was such an easy air ofgallantry about him, too, as commended him extremely to the susceptibleCynthia, however they might differ in their opinions on the subject ofmorality. Indeed his mien was so winning and so perfectly acceptablewithal to her ladyship, that I could have wished he had less of thosegraces to recommend him. For I'll swear that her eyes shone to hisspeeches, and there was a fine colour in her cheeks, howeverindignantly she may be moved to deny it. There was a sly humour in thefellow too, which as the meal wore on and the excellence of the farewarmed his heart, he manifested in various ways. To start with, hemade more than one allusion to our supposed misfortune. What kind of aperson was the highwayman, he asked in a tone equally pregnant withmischief and concern.

  "Oh, pretty tallish," says I, with admirable vagueness and promptitude.

  Thereupon he put a vast number of questions all bearing on theappearance of our assailant. Had he a cast in his eye? a scar on hislip? Did he speak with a west country burr? and so forth. These werebut a few. For strive as we would to turn the topic towards somethingthat might disc
oncert us less, he persisted in returning again andagain to our supposed adventure on the road. The theme seemed to havea kind of fascination for him. At last it grew too plain that hispertinacity had serious purpose behind it. Either my fencing grew tooobvious or his queries grew too direct, for I was presently led to seethat he had formed his own opinion on the matter, and that he proposedto convict us out of our own mouths. It was with an effort thereforethat I retained my politeness, since the deeper one is in the wrong themore is one inclined to resent its being proved against one.

  "I should be obliged, sir," says I, "if you will do us the favour offorgetting this unfortunate circumstance. We have already come toregard our property as lost, and having made up our minds upon that wecease to regret it. Indeed, we had already dismissed so trivial amatter from our minds, and should not have thought fit to recall it,had not the predicament of our penury, and the obstinate importunitiesof this fellow the landlord, compelled us to allude to it again. Youwill vastly oblige me, sir, by ceasing to mention it."

  "You are very well schooled in the art of evasion, sir," says theother. "But I am much too greatly interested in this affair to consentto its stopping at this. The manner of the appearance of your adorablecompanion and yourself here in this place this evening perplexes andsurprises me beyond measure. I humbly crave your pardon if I may seemto transgress the bounds of good taste, sir, but might I venture to askwhether you were coming from London or were you going there?"

  "Going there," says I incautiously.

  "Then I confess," says he smoothly, "my perplexity increases. If youwere going to London, how could it happen that you were descending,instead of mounting Marling Hill?"

  I plainly saw that the fellow had lured me into a trap.

  "Really, sir," says I, with some show of heat, "I am sorry that youcannot see fit to respect my protests. You will do me a real service,sir, if you will cease to pursue this disagreeable subject."

  "I do not doubt you on that last point, sir," says the other. "And Iwonder if I might make so bold as to inquire how it befalls that twopersons who are presumably of the first quality, or at least of greatgentility, are to be found travelling the country in an attire that themeanest of their servants would think twice before they affected?"

  "This is insufferable, this is intolerable," says I. "I declineperemptorily to answer such questions. They are impertinent, sir,impertinent; and it grieves me to think that a gentleman of your tasteand discretion could have thought fit to put them."

  However, my annoyance could restrain him no better than my persuasion.He laughed openly, and then suddenly cast off the veil. With a curl athis lips, and an unmistakable impudence in his eyes, says he:

  "I think the time is come, sir, when we might with profit understandone another a little better. Might we not deal a little more franklywith one another, do you not think? For instance, if you are preparedto confess that you have been beset by no highwayman whatever, and thewhole invention of him, the coach, the valuables, the servants, and thehorses is a cock-and-bull story intended to divert the attention of ourhonest host from your destitute condition, I am just as prepared toaccept that statement."

  "Sir," says I, "I fear that you forget yourself. You insult mewantonly."

  However difficult it may be to condone the truth when it is sounblushingly expressed, I was hardly in a position to punish him forthe publication of it. Not that it was any sneaking respect for thetruth that restrained me. It was rather that I had arrived at years ofa certain discretion. Was there not everything in the world to loseand nothing whatever to gain by indulging in open passages with a totalstranger? Cynthia was at my side, and wholly dependent upon me. Andit was her presence and that thought which enabled me to keep so tighta rein on my furious inclination. Meanwhile this person had turnedsuch a cool impudent scrutiny upon me that it seemed as though hecalmly spelt out every phase of thought through which I was at thatmoment passing.

 

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