by T. Smollett
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
IN WHICH HIS FORTUNE IS EFFECTUALLY STRANGLED.
The last resource, and that upon which he least depended, was the adviceand assistance of his old friend the empiric, with whom he stillmaintained a slight correspondence; and to whose house he steered hiscourse, in great perplexity and tribulation. That gentleman, instead ofconsoling him with assurances of friendship and protection, faithfullyrecapitulated all the instances of his indiscretion and misconduct, taxedhim with want of sincerity in the West India affair, as well as with wantof honesty in this last marriage, while his former wife was alive; and,finally, reminded him of his notes, which he desired might be immediatelytaken up, as he (the quack) had present occasion for a sum of money.
Ferdinand, seeing it would be impracticable to derive any succour fromthis quarter, sneaked homewards, in order to hold a consultation with hisown thoughts; and the first object that presented itself to his eyes whenhe entered his apartment, was a letter from the tradesman, with hisaccount inclosed, amounting to forty-five pounds, which the writerdesired might be paid without delay. Before he had time to peruse thearticles, he received a summons, in consequence of a bill of indictmentfor bigamy, found against him in Hicks' Hall, by Sarah Muddy, widow; and,while he was revolving measures to avert these storms, another billetarrived from a certain attorney, giving him to understand, that he hadorders from Doctor Buffalo, the quack, to sue him for the payment ofseveral notes, unless he would take them up in three days from the dateof this letter.
Such a concurrence of sinister events made a deep impression upon themind of our adventurer. All his fortitude was insufficient to bear himup against this torrent of misfortunes; his resources were all dried up,his invention failed, and his reflection began to take a new turn. "Towhat purpose," said he to himself, "have I deserted the paths ofintegrity and truth, and exhausted a fruitful imagination, in contrivingschemes to betray my fellow-creatures, if, instead of acquiring asplendid fortune, which was my aim, I have suffered such a series ofmortifications, and at last brought myself to the brink of inevitabledestruction? By a virtuous exertion of those talents I inherit fromnature and education, I might, long before this time, have renderedmyself independent, and, perhaps, conspicuous in life. I might havegrown up like a young oak, which, being firmly rooted in its kindredsoil, gradually raises up its lofty head, expands its leafy arms,projects a noble shade, and towers the glory of the plain. I should havepaid the debt of gratitude to my benefactors, and made their hearts singwith joy for the happy effects of their benevolence. I should have beena bulwark to my friends, a shelter to my neighbours in distress. Ishould have run the race of honour, seen my fame diffused like asweet-smelling odour, and felt the ineffable pleasure of doing good.Whereas I am, after a vicissitude of disappointments, dangers, andfatigues, reduced to misery and shame, aggravated by a conscience loadedwith treachery and guilt. I have abused the confidence and generosity ofmy patron; I have defrauded his family, under the mask of sincerity andattachment; I have taken the most cruel and base advantages of virtue indistress; I have seduced unsuspecting innocence to ruin and despair; Ihave violated the most sacred trust reposed in me by my friend andbenefactor; I have betrayed his love, torn his noble heart asunder, bymeans of the most perfidious slander and false insinuations; and,finally, brought to an untimely grave the fairest pattern of human beautyand perfection. Shall the author of these crimes pass with impunity?Shall he hope to prosper in the midst of such enormous guilt? It were animputation upon Providence to suppose it! Ah, no! I begin to feel myselfovertaken by the eternal justice of Heaven! I totter on the edge ofwretchedness and woe, without one friendly hand to save me from theterrible abyss!"
These reflections, which, perhaps, the misery of his fellow-creatureswould never have inspired, had he himself remained without the verge ofmisfortune, were now produced from the sensation of his own calamities;and, for the first time, his cheeks were bedewed with the drops ofpenitence and sorrow. "Contraries," saith Plato, "are productive of eachother." Reformation is oftentimes generated from unsuccessful vice; andour adventurer was, at this juncture, very well disposed to turn over anew leaf in consequence of those salutary suggestions; though he was farfrom being cured beyond the possibility of a relapse. On the contrary,all the faculties of his soul were so well adapted, and had been so longhabituated to deceit, that, in order to extricate himself from the evilsthat environed him, he would not, in all probability, have scrupled topractise it upon his own father, had a convenient opportunity occurred.
Be that as it may, he certainly, after a tedious and fruitless exerciseof his invention, resolved to effect a clandestine retreat from thatconfederacy of enemies which he could not withstand, and once more joinhis fortune to that of Renaldo, whom he proposed to serve, for thefuture, with fidelity and affection, thereby endeavouring to atone forthe treachery of his former conduct. Thus determined, he packed up hisnecessaries in a portmanteau, attempted to amuse his creditors withpromises of speedy payment, and, venturing to come forth in the dark,took a place in the Canterbury stage-coach, after having converted hissuperfluities into ready money. These steps were not taken with suchprivacy as to elude the vigilance of his adversaries; for, although hehad been cautious enough to transport himself and his baggage to the innon Sunday evening, and never doubted that the vehicle, which set out atfour o'clock on Monday morning, would convey him out of the reach of hiscreditors, before they could possibly obtain a writ for securing hisperson, they had actually taken such precautions as frustrated all hisfinesse; and the coach being stopped in the borough of Southwark, DoctorFathom was seized by virtue of a warrant obtained on a criminalindictment, and was forthwith conducted to the prison of the King'sBench; yet, not before he had, by his pathetic remonstrances, excited thecompassion, and even drawn tears from the eyes of his fellow-passengers.
He no sooner recollected himself from the shock which must have beenoccasioned by this sinister incident, than he despatched a letter to hisbrother-in-law, the counsellor, requesting an immediate conference, inwhich he promised to make such a proposal as would save him all theexpense of a lawsuit and trial, and, at the same time, effectually answerall the purposes of both. He was accordingly favoured with a visit fromthe lawyer, to whom, after the most solemn protestations of his owninnocence, he declared, that, finding himself unable to wage war againstsuch powerful antagonists, he had resolved even to abandon hisindubitable right, and retire into another country, in order to screenhimself from persecution, and remove all cause of disquiet from theprosecutrix, when he was, unfortunately, prevented by the warrant whichhad been executed against him. He said he was still willing, for thesake of his liberty, to sign a formal renunciation of his pretensions toMrs. Fathom and her fortune, provided the deeds could be executed, andthe warrant withdrawn, before he should be detained by his othercreditors; and, lastly, he conjured the barrister to spare himself theguilt and the charge of suborning evidence for the destruction of anunhappy man, whose misfortune was his only fault.
The lawyer felt the force of his expostulations; and though he would byno means suppose him innocent of the charge of bigamy, yet, under thepretext of humanity and commiseration, he undertook to persuade hissister to accept of a proper release, which, he observed, would not bebinding, if executed during the confinement of Fathom; he therefore tookhis leave, in order to prepare the papers, withdraw the action, and takesuch other measures as would hinder the prisoner from giving him theslip. Next day, he returned with an order to release our hero, who,being formally discharged, was conducted by the lawyer to a tavern in theneighbourhood, where the releases were exchanged, and everythingconcluded with amity and concord. This business being happilytransacted, Fathom stept into a hackney-coach, with his baggage, and wasfollowed by a bailiff, who told him, with great composure, that he wasagain a prisoner, at the suit of Doctor Buffalo, and desired the coachmanto reconduct him to the lodging he had so lately discharged.
Fathom, whose fortitude had been
hitherto of the pagan temper, was nowfain to reinforce it with the philosophy of Christian resignation, thoughhe had not as yet arrived to such a pitch of self-denial as to forgivethe counsellor, to whose double dealing he imputed this new calamity.After having received the compliments of the jailer on his recommitment,he took pen, ink, and paper, and composed an artful and affecting epistleto the empiric, imploring his mercy, flattering his weakness, anddemonstrating the bad policy of cooping up an unhappy man in a jail,where he could never have an opportunity of doing justice to hiscreditors; nor did he forget to declare his intention of retiring intoanother country, where he might have some chance of earning asubsistence, which he had so long toiled for to no purpose in England.This last declaration he made in consequence of the jealous dispositionof the quack, who he knew had long looked upon him in the odious light ofan interloping rival. However, he reaped no benefit from thissupplication, which served only to gratify the pride of Buffalo, whoproduced the extravagant encomiums which Fathom had bestowed upon him, asso many testimonials of his foe's bearing witness to his virtue.
