History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter ix.

  The escape of Sophia.

  It is now time to look after Sophia; whom the reader, if he loves herhalf so well as I do, will rejoice to find escaped from the clutchesof her passionate father, and from those of her dispassionate lover.

  Twelve times did the iron register of time beat on the sonorousbell-metal, summoning the ghosts to rise and walk their nightlyround.----In plainer language, it was twelve o'clock, and all thefamily, as we have said, lay buried in drink and sleep, except onlyMrs Western, who was deeply engaged in reading a political pamphlet,and except our heroine, who now softly stole down-stairs, and, havingunbarred and unlocked one of the house-doors, sallied forth, andhastened to the place of appointment.

  Notwithstanding the many pretty arts which ladies sometimes practise,to display their fears on every little occasion (almost as many as theother sex uses to conceal theirs), certainly there is a degree ofcourage which not only becomes a woman, but is often necessary toenable her to discharge her duty. It is, indeed, the idea offierceness, and not of bravery, which destroys the female character;for who can read the story of the justly celebrated Arria withoutconceiving as high an opinion of her gentleness and tenderness as ofher fortitude? At the same time, perhaps, many a woman who shrieks ata mouse, or a rat, may be capable of poisoning a husband; or, what isworse, of driving him to poison himself.

  Sophia, with all the gentleness which a woman can have, had all thespirit which she ought to have. When, therefore, she came to the placeof appointment, and, instead of meeting her maid, as was agreed, saw aman ride directly up to her, she neither screamed out nor faintedaway: not that her pulse then beat with its usual regularity; for shewas, at first, under some surprize and apprehension: but these wererelieved almost as soon as raised, when the man, pulling off his hat,asked her, in a very submissive manner, "If her ladyship did notexpect to meet another lady?" and then proceeded to inform her that hewas sent to conduct her to that lady.

  Sophia could have no possible suspicion of any falsehood in thisaccount: she therefore mounted resolutely behind the fellow, whoconveyed her safe to a town about five miles distant, where she hadthe satisfaction of finding the good Mrs Honour: for, as the soul ofthe waiting-woman was wrapt up in those very habiliments which used toenwrap her body, she could by no means bring herself to trust them outof her sight. Upon these, therefore, she kept guard in person, whileshe detached the aforesaid fellow after her mistress, having given himall proper instructions.

  They now debated what course to take, in order to avoid the pursuit ofMr Western, who they knew would send after them in a few hours. TheLondon road had such charms for Honour, that she was desirous of goingon directly; alleging that, as Sophia could not be missed till eightor nine the next morning, her pursuers would not be able to overtakeher, even though they knew which way she had gone. But Sophia had toomuch at stake to venture anything to chance; nor did she dare trusttoo much to her tender limbs, in a contest which was to be decidedonly by swiftness. She resolved, therefore, to travel across thecountry, for at least twenty or thirty miles, and then to take thedirect road to London. So, having hired horses to go twenty miles oneway, when she intended to go twenty miles the other, she set forwardwith the same guide behind whom she had ridden from her father'shouse; the guide having now taken up behind him, in the room ofSophia, a much heavier, as well as much less lovely burden; being,indeed, a huge portmanteau, well stuffed with those outside ornaments,by means of which the fair Honour hoped to gain many conquests, and,finally, to make her fortune in London city.

  When they had gone about two hundred paces from the inn on the Londonroad, Sophia rode up to the guide, and, with a voice much fuller ofhoney than was ever that of Plato, though his mouth is supposed tohave been a bee-hive, begged him to take the first turning which ledtowards Bristol.

  Reader, I am not superstitious, nor any great believer of modernmiracles. I do not, therefore, deliver the following as a certaintruth; for, indeed, I can scarce credit it myself: but the fidelity ofan historian obliges me to relate what hath been confidently asserted.The horse, then, on which the guide rode, is reported to have been socharmed by Sophia's voice, that he made a full stop, and expressed anunwillingness to proceed any farther.

  Perhaps, however, the fact may be true, and less miraculous than ithath been represented; since the natural cause seems adequate to theeffect: for, as the guide at that moment desisted from a constantapplication of his armed right heel (for, like Hudibras, he wore butone spur), it is more than possible that this omission alone mightoccasion the beast to stop, especially as this was very frequent withhim at other times.

  But if the voice of Sophia had really an effect on the horse, it hadvery little on the rider. He answered somewhat surlily, "That measterhad ordered him to go a different way, and that he should lose hisplace if he went any other than that he was ordered."

  Sophia, finding all her persuasions had no effect, began now to addirresistible charms to her voice; charms which, according to theproverb, makes the old mare trot, instead of standing still; charms!to which modern ages have attributed all that irresistible force whichthe antients imputed to perfect oratory. In a word, she promised shewould reward him to his utmost expectation.

  The lad was not totally deaf to these promises; but he disliked theirbeing indefinite; for, though perhaps he had never heard that word,yet that, in fact, was his objection. He said, "Gentlevolks did notconsider the case of poor volks; that he had like to have been turnedaway the other day, for riding about the country with a gentleman fromSquire Allworthy's, who did not reward him as he should have done."

  "With whom?" says Sophia eagerly. "With a gentleman from SquireAllworthy's," repeated the lad; "the squire's son, I think they call'un."--"Whither? which way did he go?" says Sophia.--"Why, a little o'one side o' Bristol, about twenty miles off," answered thelad.--"Guide me," says Sophia, "to the same place, and I'll give theea guinea, or two, if one is not sufficient."--"To be certain," saidthe boy, "it is honestly worth two, when your ladyship considers whata risk I run; but, however, if your ladyship will promise me the twoguineas, I'll e'en venture: to be certain it is a sinful thing to rideabout my measter's horses; but one comfort is, I can only be turnedaway, and two guineas will partly make me amends."

  The bargain being thus struck, the lad turned aside into the Bristolroad, and Sophia set forward in pursuit of Jones, highly contrary tothe remonstrances of Mrs Honour, who had much more desire to see Londonthan to see Mr Jones: for indeed she was not his friend with hermistress, as he had been guilty of some neglect in certain pecuniarycivilities, which are by custom due to the waiting-gentlewoman in alllove affairs, and more especially in those of a clandestine kind. Thiswe impute rather to the carelessness of his temper than to any want ofgenerosity; but perhaps she derived it from the latter motive. Certainit is that she hated him very bitterly on that account, and resolved totake every opportunity of injuring him with her mistress. It wastherefore highly unlucky for her, that she had gone to the very sametown and inn whence Jones had started, and still more unlucky was shein having stumbled on the same guide, and on this accidental discoverywhich Sophia had made.

  Our travellers arrived at Hambrook[*] at the break of day, whereHonour was against her will charged to enquire the route which MrJones had taken. Of this, indeed, the guide himself could haveinformed them; but Sophia, I know not for what reason, never asked himthe question.

  [*] This was the village where Jones met the Quaker.

  When Mrs Honour had made her report from the landlord, Sophia, withmuch difficulty, procured some indifferent horses, which brought herto the inn where Jones had been confined rather by the misfortune ofmeeting with a surgeon than by having met with a broken head.

  Here Honour, being again charged with a commission of enquiry, had nosooner applied herself to the landlady, and had described the personof Mr Jones, than that sagacious woman began, in the vulgar phrase, tosmell a rat. When Sophia therefore entered the room, instead of
answering the maid, the landlady, addressing herself to the mistress,began the following speech: "Good lack-a-day! why there now, who wouldhave thought it? I protest the loveliest couple that ever eye beheld.I-fackins, madam, it is no wonder the squire run on so about yourladyship. He told me indeed you was the finest lady in the world, andto be sure so you be. Mercy on him, poor heart! I bepitied him, so Idid, when he used to hug his pillow, and call it his dear MadamSophia. I did all I could to dissuade him from going to the wars: Itold him there were men enow that were good for nothing else but to bekilled, that had not the love of such fine ladies." "Sure," saysSophia, "the good woman is distracted." "No, no," cries the landlady,"I am not distracted. What, doth your ladyship think I don't knowthen? I assure you he told me all." "What saucy fellow," cries Honour,"told you anything of my lady?" "No saucy fellow," answered thelandlady, "but the young gentleman you enquired after, and a verypretty young gentleman he is, and he loves Madam Sophia Western to thebottom of his soul." "He love my lady! I'd have you to know, woman,she is meat for his master."--"Nay, Honour," said Sophia, interruptingher, "don't be angry with the good woman; she intends no harm." "No,marry, don't I," answered the landlady, emboldened by the soft accentsof Sophia; and then launched into a long narrative too tedious to behere set down, in which some passages dropt that gave a little offenceto Sophia, and much more to her waiting-woman, who hence took occasionto abuse poor Jones to her mistress the moment they were alonetogether, saying, "that he must be a very pitiful fellow, and couldhave no love for a lady, whose name he would thus prostitute in anale-house."

  Sophia did not see his behaviour in so very disadvantageous a light,and was perhaps more pleased with the violent raptures of his love(which the landlady exaggerated as much as she had done every othercircumstance) than she was offended with the rest; and indeed sheimputed the whole to the extravagance, or rather ebullience, of hispassion, and to the openness of his heart.

  This incident, however, being afterwards revived in her mind, andplaced in the most odious colours by Honour, served to heighten andgive credit to those unlucky occurrences at Upton, and assisted thewaiting-woman in her endeavours to make her mistress depart from thatinn without seeing Jones.

  The landlady finding Sophia intended to stay no longer than till herhorses were ready, and that without either eating or drinking, soonwithdrew; when Honour began to take her mistress to task (for indeedshe used great freedom), and after a long harangue, in which shereminded her of her intention to go to London, and gave frequent hintsof the impropriety of pursuing a young fellow, she at last concludedwith this serious exhortation: "For heaven's sake, madam, considerwhat you are about, and whither you are going."

  This advice to a lady who had already rode near forty miles, and in novery agreeable season, may seem foolish enough. It may be supposed shehad well considered and resolved this already; nay, Mrs Honour, by thehints she threw out, seemed to think so; and this I doubt not is theopinion of many readers, who have, I make no doubt, been long sincewell convinced of the purpose of our heroine, and have heartilycondemned her for it as a wanton baggage.

  But in reality this was not the case. Sophia had been lately sodistracted between hope and fear, her duty and love to her father, herhatred to Blifil, her compassion, and (why should we not confess thetruth?) her love for Jones; which last the behaviour of her father, ofher aunt, of every one else, and more particularly of Jones himself,had blown into a flame, that her mind was in that confused state whichmay be truly said to make us ignorant of what we do, or whither we go,or rather, indeed, indifferent as to the consequence of either.

  The prudent and sage advice of her maid produced, however, some coolreflection; and she at length determined to go to Gloucester, andthence to proceed directly to London.

  But, unluckily, a few miles before she entered that town, she met thehack-attorney, who, as is before mentioned, had dined there with MrJones. This fellow, being well known to Mrs Honour, stopt and spoke toher; of which Sophia at that time took little notice, more than toenquire who he was.

  But, having had a more particular account from Honour of this manafterwards at Gloucester, and hearing of the great expedition heusually made in travelling, for which (as hath been before observed)he was particularly famous; recollecting, likewise, that she hadoverheard Mrs Honour inform him that they were going to Gloucester,she began to fear lest her father might, by this fellow's means, beable to trace her to that city; wherefore, if she should there strikeinto the London road, she apprehended he would certainly be able toovertake her. She therefore altered her resolution; and, having hiredhorses to go a week's journey a way which she did not intend totravel, she again set forward after a light refreshment, contrary tothe desire and earnest entreaties of her maid, and to the no lessvehement remonstrances of Mrs Whitefield, who, from good breeding, orperhaps from good nature (for the poor young lady appeared muchfatigued), pressed her very heartily to stay that evening atGloucester.

  Having refreshed herself only with some tea, and with lying about twohours on the bed, while her horses were getting ready, she resolutelyleft Mrs Whitefield's about eleven at night, and, striking directlyinto the Worcester road, within less than four hours arrived at thatvery inn where we last saw her.

  Having thus traced our heroine very particularly back from herdeparture, till her arrival at Upton, we shall in a very few wordsbring her father to the same place; who, having received the firstscent from the post-boy, who conducted his daughter to Hambrook, veryeasily traced her afterwards to Gloucester; whence he pursued her toUpton, as he had learned Mr Jones had taken that route (for Partridge,to use the squire's expression, left everywhere a strong scent behindhim), and he doubted not in the least but Sophia travelled, or, as hephrased it, ran, the same way. He used indeed a very coarseexpression, which need not be here inserted; as fox-hunters, who alonewill understand it, will easily suggest it to themselves.

  BOOK XI.

  CONTAINING ABOUT THREE DAYS.