by T. Smollett
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
A FLAGRANT INSTANCE OF FATHOM'S VIRTUE, IN THE MANNER OF HIS RETREAT TOENGLAND.
Fathom, who had lent an attentive ear to every circumstance of thisdisastrous story, no sooner heard it concluded, than, with an aspect ofgenerous and cordial compassion, not even unattended with tears, hecondoled the lamentable fate of Don Diego de Zelos, deplored the untimelydeath of the gentle Antonia and the fair Serafina, and undertook theinterest of the wretched Castilian with such warmth of sympathising zeal,as drew a flood from his eyes, while he wrung his benefactor's hand in atransport of gratitude. Those were literally tears of joy, or at leastof satisfaction, on both sides; as our hero wept with affection andattachment to the jewels that were to be committed to his care; but, farfrom discovering the true source of his tenderness, he affected todissuade the Spaniard from parting with the diamonds, which he counselledhim to reserve for a more pressing occasion; and, in the meantime,earnestly entreated him to depend upon his friendship for present relief.
This generous proffer served only to confirm Don Diego's resolution,which he forthwith executed, by putting into the hands of Ferdinandjewels to the value of a thousand crowns, and desiring him to detain forhis own use any part of the sum they would raise. Our adventurer thankedhim for the good opinion he entertained of his integrity, an opinionfully manifested in honouring him with such important confidence, andassured him he would transact his affairs with the utmost diligence,caution, and despatch. The evening being by this time almost consumed,these new allies retired separately to rest; though each passed the nightwithout repose, in very different reflections, the Castilian being, asusual, agitated with the unceasing pangs of his unalterable misery,interspersed with gleaming hopes of revenge; and Fathom being kept awakewith revolving plans for turning his fellow-lodger's credulity to his ownadvantage. From the nature of the Spaniard's situation, he might haveappropriated the jewels to himself, and remained in Paris without fear ofa prosecution, because the injured party had, by the above narrative,left his life and liberty at discretion.--But he did not think himselfsecure from the personal resentment of an enraged desperate Castilian;and therefore determined to withdraw himself privately into that countrywhere he had all along proposed to fix the standard of his finesse, whichfortune had now empowered him to exercise according to his wish.
Bent upon this retreat, he went abroad in the morning, on pretence ofacting in the concerns of his friend Don Diego, and having hired apost-chaise to be ready at the dawning of next day, returned to hislodgings, where he cajoled the Spaniard with a feigned report of hisnegotiation; then, securing his most valuable effects about his person,arose with the cock, repaired to the place at which he had appointed tomeet the postillion with the carriage, and set out for England withoutfurther delay, leaving the unhappy Zelos to the horrors of indigence, andthe additional agony of this fresh disappointment. Yet he was not theonly person affected by the abrupt departure of Fathom, which washastened by the importunities, threats, and reproaches of his landlord'sdaughter, whom he had debauched under promise of marriage, and now leftin the fourth month of her pregnancy.
Notwithstanding the dangerous adventure in which he had been formerlyinvolved by travelling in the night, he did not think proper to make theusual halts on this journey, for sleep or refreshment, nor did he oncequit the chaise till his arrival at Boulogne, which he reached in twentyhours after his departure from Paris. Here he thought he might safelyindulge himself with a comfortable meal; accordingly he bespoke a poulardfor dinner, and while that was preparing, went forth to view the city andharbour. When he beheld the white cliffs of Albion, his heart throbbedwith all the joy of a beloved son, who, after a tedious and fatiguingvoyage, reviews the chimneys of his father's house. He surveyed theneighbouring coast of England with fond and longing eyes, like anotherMoses, reconnoitring the land of Canaan from the top of Mount Pisgah; andto such a degree of impatience was he inflamed by the sight, that,instead of proceeding to Calais, he resolved to take his passage directlyfrom Boulogne, even if he should hire a vessel for the purpose. Withthese sentiments, he inquired if there was any ship bound for England,and was so fortunate as to find the master of a small bark, who intendedto weigh anchor for Deal that same evening at high water.
Transported with this information, he immediately agreed for his passage,sold the post-chaise to his landlord for thirty guineas, as a piece offurniture for which he could have no further use, purchased aportmanteau, together with some linen and wearing apparel, and, at therecommendation of his host, took into his service an extra postillion orhelper, who had formerly worn the livery of a travelling marquis. Thisnew domestic, whose name was Maurice, underwent, with great applause, theexamination of our hero, who perceived in him a fund of sagacity andpresence of mind, by which he was excellently qualified for being thevalet of an adventurer. He was therefore accommodated with a second-handsuit and another shirt, and at once listed under the banners of CountFathom, who spent the whole afternoon in giving him proper instructionsfor the regulation of his conduct.
Having settled these preliminaries to his own satisfaction, he and hisbaggage were embarked about six o'clock in the month of September, and itwas not without emotion that he found himself benighted upon the greatdeep, of which, before the preceding day, he had never enjoyed even themost distant prospect. However, he was not a man to be afraid, wherethere was really no appearance of danger; and the agreeable presages offuture fortune supported his spirits, amidst the disagreeable nauseawhich commonly attends landsmen at sea, until he was set ashore upon thebeach at Deal, which he entered in good health about seven o'clock in themorning.
Like Caesar, however, he found some difficulty in landing, on account ofthe swelling surf, that tumbled about with such violence as had almostoverset the cutter that carried him on shore; and, in his eagerness tojump upon the strand, his foot slipped from the side of the boat, so thathe was thrown forwards in an horizontal direction, and his hands were thefirst parts of him that touched English ground. Upon this occasion, he,in imitation of Scipio's behaviour on the coast of Africa, hailed theomen, and, grasping a handful of the sand, was heard to exclaim, in theItalian language: "Ah, ah, Old England, I have thee fast."
As he walked up to the inn, followed by Maurice loaded with hisportmanteau, he congratulated himself upon his happy voyage, and thepeaceable possession of his spoil, and could not help snuffing up theBritish air with marks of infinite relish and satisfaction. His firstcare was to recompense himself for the want of sleep he had undergone,and, after he had sufficiently recruited himself with several hours ofuninterrupted repose, he set out in a post-chaise for Canterbury, wherehe took a place in the London stage, which he was told would depart nextmorning, the coach being already full. On this very first day of hisarrival, he perceived between the English and the people among whom hehad hitherto lived, such essential difference in customs, appearance, andway of living, as inspired him with high notions of that British freedom,opulence, and convenience, on which he had often heard his motherexpatiate. On the road, he feasted his eyesight with the verdant hillscovered with flocks of sheep, the fruitful vales parcelled out intocultivated enclosures; the very cattle seemed to profit by the wealth oftheir masters, being large, sturdy, and sleek, and every peasant breathedthe insolence of liberty and independence. In a word, he viewed thewide-extended plains of Kent with a lover's eye, and, his ambitionbecoming romantic, could not help fancying himself another conqueror ofthe isle.
He was not, however, long amused by these vain chimeras, which soonvanished before other reflections of more importance and solidity. Hisimagination, it must be owned, was at all times too chaste to admit thoseoverweening hopes, which often mislead the mind of the projector. He hadstudied mankind with incredible diligence, and knew perfectly well howfar he could depend on the passions and foibles of human nature. That hemight now act consistent with his former sagacity, he resolved to passhimself upon his fellow-travellers for a French gentleman,
equally astranger to the language and country of England, in order to glean fromtheir discourse such intelligence as might avail him in his futureoperations; and his lacquey was tutored accordingly.
