by Daniel Defoe
his acquaintance, and wasvery courteously entertained.
My gentleman's business was with some persons of the first rank, and towhom he had sold some jewels of very good value, and received a greatsum of money in specie; and, as he told me privately, he gained threethousand pistoles by his bargain, but would not suffer the most intimatefriend he had there to know what he had received; for it is not so safea thing in Paris to have a great sum of money in keeping as it might bein London.
We made this journey much longer than we intended, and my gentleman sentfor one of his managers in London to come over to us in Paris with somediamonds, and sent him back to London again to fetch more. Then otherbusiness fell into his hands so unexpectedly that I began to think weshould take up our constant residence there, which I was not very averseto, it being my native country, and I spoke the language perfectly well.So we took a good house in Paris, and lived very well there; and I sentfor Amy to come over to me, for I lived gallantly, and my gentleman wastwo or three times going to keep me a coach, but I declined it,especially at Paris, but as they have those conveniences by the daythere, at a certain rate, I had an equipage provided for me whenever Ipleased, and I lived here in a very good figure, and might have livedhigher if I pleased.
But in the middle of all this felicity a dreadful disaster befell me,which entirely unhinged all my affairs, and threw me back into the samestate of life that I was in before; with this one happy exception,however, that whereas before I was poor, even to misery, now I was notonly provided for, but very rich.
My gentleman had the name in Paris for a rich man, and indeed he was so,though not so immensely rich as people imagined; but that which wasfatal to him was, that he generally carried a shagreen case in hispocket, especially when he went to court, or to the houses of any of theprinces of the blood, in which he had jewels of very great value.
It happened one day that, being to go to Versailles to wait upon thePrince of ----, he came up into my chamber in the morning, and laid outhis jewel-case, because he was not going to show any jewels, but to geta foreign bill accepted, which he had received from Amsterdam; so, whenhe gave me the case, he said, "My dear, I think I need not carry thiswith me, because it may be I may not come back till night, and it is toomuch to venture." I returned, "Then, my dear, you shan't go." "Why?"says he. "Because, as they are too much for you, so you are too much forme to venture, and you shall not go, unless you will promise me not tostay so as to come back in the night."
"I hope there's no danger," said he, "seeing that I have nothing aboutme of any value; and therefore, lest I should, take that too," says he,and gives me his gold watch and a rich diamond which he had in a ring,and always wore on his finger.
"Well, but, my dear," says I, "you make me more uneasy now than before;for if you apprehend no danger, why do you use this caution? and if youapprehend there is danger, why do you go at all?"
"There is no danger," says he, "if I do not stay late, and I do notdesign to do so."
"Well, but promise me, then, that you won't," says I, "or else I cannotlet you go."
"I won't indeed, my dear," says he, "unless I am obliged to it. I assureyou I do not intend it; but if I should, I am not worth robbing now, forI have nothing about me but about six pistoles in my little purse andthat little ring," showing me a small diamond ring, worth about ten ortwelve pistoles, which he put upon his finger, in the room of the richone he usually wore.
THE JEWELLER IS ABOUT TO LEAVE FOR VERSAILLES
_And gives me his gold watch and a rich diamond which he had in a ring,and always wore on his finger_]
I still pressed him not to stay late, and he said he would not. "But ifI am kept late," says he, "beyond my expectation, I'll stay all night,and come next morning." This seemed a very good caution; but still mymind was very uneasy about him, and I told him so, and entreated himnot to go. I told him I did not know what might be the reason, but thatI had a strange terror upon my mind about his going, and that if he didgo, I was persuaded some harm would attend him. He smiled, and returned,"Well, my dear, if it should be so, you are now richly provided for; allthat I have here I give to you." And with that he takes up the casket orcase, "Here," says he, "hold your hand; there is a good estate for youin this case; if anything happens to me 'tis all your own. I give ityou for yourself;" and with that he put the casket, the fine ring, andhis gold watch all into my hands, and the key of his scrutoire besides,adding, "And in my scrutoire there is some money; it is all your own."
I stared at him as if I was frighted, for I thought all his face lookedlike a death's-head; and then immediately I thought I perceived his headall bloody, and then his clothes looked bloody too, and immediately itall went off, and he looked as he really did. Immediately I fella-crying, and hung about him. "My dear," said I, "I am frighted todeath; you shall not go. Depend upon it some mischief will befall you."I did not tell him how my vapourish fancy had represented him to me;that, I thought, was not proper. Besides, he would only have laughed atme, and would have gone away with a jest about it; but I pressed himseriously not to go that day, or, if he did, to promise me to come hometo Paris again by daylight. He looked a little graver then than he didbefore, told me he was not apprehensive of the least danger, but ifthere was, he would either take care to come in the day, or, as he hadsaid before, would stay all night.
But all these promises came to nothing, for he was set upon in the openday and robbed by three men on horseback, masked, as he went; and one ofthem, who, it seems, rifled him while the rest stood to stop the coach,stabbed him into the body with a sword, so that he died immediately. Hehad a footman behind the coach, who they knocked down with the stock orbutt-end of a carbine. They were supposed to kill him because of thedisappointment they met with in not getting his case or casket ofdiamonds, which they knew he carried about him; and this was supposedbecause, after they had killed him, they made the coachman drive out ofthe road a long way over the heath, till they came to a convenientplace, where they pulled him out of the coach and searched his clothesmore narrowly than they could do while he was alive. But they foundnothing but his little ring, six pistoles, and the value of about sevenlivres in small moneys.
This was a dreadful blow to me, though I cannot say I was so surprisedas I should otherwise have been, for all the while he was gone my mindwas oppressed with the weight of my own thoughts, and I was as surethat I should never see him any more that I think nothing could be likeit. The impression was so strong that I think nothing could make so deepa wound that was imaginary; and I was so dejected and disconsolate that,when I received the news of his disaster, there was no room for anyextraordinary alteration in me. I had cried all that day, ate nothing,and only waited, as I might say, to receive the dismal news, which I hadbrought to me about five o'clock in the afternoon.
I was in a strange country, and, though I had a pretty manyacquaintances, had but very few friends that I could consult on thisoccasion. All possible inquiry was made after the rogues that had beenthus barbarous, but nothing could be heard of them; nor was it possiblethat the footman could make any discovery of them by his description,for they knocked him down immediately, so that he knew nothing of whatwas done afterwards. The coachman was the only man that could sayanything, and all his account amounted to no more than this, that one ofthem had soldier's clothes, but he could not remember the particulars ofhis mounting, so as to know what regiment he belonged to; and as totheir faces, that he could know nothing of, because they had all of themmasks on.
I had him buried as decently as the place would permit a Protestantstranger to be buried, and made some of the scruples and difficulties onthat account easy by the help of money to a certain person, who wentimpudently to the curate of the parish of St. Sulpitius, in Paris, andtold him that the gentleman that was killed was a Catholic; that thethieves had taken from him a cross of gold, set with diamonds, worth sixthousand livres; that his widow was a Catholic, and had sent by himsixty crowns to the church of ----, for masses to be said for the reposeof his soul
. Upon all which, though not one word was true, he was buriedwith all the ceremonies of the Roman Church.
I think I almost cried myself to death for him, for I abandoned myselfto all the excesses of grief; and indeed I loved him to a degreeinexpressible; and considering what kindness he had shown me at first,and how tenderly he had used me to the last, what could I do less?
Then the manner of his death was terrible and frightful to me, and,above all, the strange notices I had of it. I had never pretended to thesecond-sight, or anything of that kind, but certainly, if any one everhad such a thing, I had it at this time, for I saw him as plainly in allthose terrible shapes as above; first, as a skeleton, not dead only, butrotten and wasted; secondly, as killed, and his face bloody; and,thirdly, his