The Fortunate Mistress (Parts 1 and 2)

by Daniel Defoe

not be there then, otherwise she wouldnever have asked her to lie in the house; so she grew cold againpresently as to her lodging there, and said, No, since it was so, shewould go back that afternoon, but she would come again in two or threedays, and search that and all the towns round in an effectual manner, ifshe stayed a week or two to do it; for, in short, if I was in England orHolland she would find me.

  "In truth," says the Quaker, "thou wilt make me very hurtful to thee,then." "Why so?" says she, "Because wherever I go, thou wilt put thyselfto great expense, and the country to a great deal of unnecessarytrouble." "Not unnecessary," says she. "Yes, truly," says the Quaker;"it must be unnecessary, because it will be to no purpose. I think Imust abide in my own house to save thee that charge and trouble."

  She said little to that, except that, she said, she would give her aslittle trouble as possible; but she was afraid she should sometimes beuneasy to her, which she hoped she would excuse. My Quaker told her shewould much rather excuse her if she would forbear; for that if she wouldbelieve her, she would assure her she should never get any intelligenceof me by her.

  That set her into tears again; but after a while, recovering herself,she told her perhaps she might be mistaken; and she (the Quaker) shouldwatch herself very narrowly, or she might one time or other get someintelligence from her, whether she would or no; and she was satisfiedshe had gained some of her by this journey, for that if I was not in thehouse, I was not far off; and if I did not remove very quickly, shewould find me out. "Very well," says my Quaker; "then if the lady is notwilling to see thee, thou givest me notice to tell her, that she may getout of thy way."

  She flew out in a rage at that, and told my friend that if she did, acurse would follow her, and her children after her, and denounced suchhorrid things upon her as frighted the poor tender-hearted Quakerstrangely, and put her more out of temper than ever I saw her before; sothat she resolved to go home the next morning, and I, that was ten timesmore uneasy than she, resolved to follow her, and go to London too;which, however, upon second thoughts, I did not, but took effectualmeasures not to be seen or owned if she came any more; but I heard nomore of her for some time.

  I stayed there about a fortnight, and in all that time I heard no moreof her, or of my Quaker about her; but after about two days more, I hada letter from my Quaker, intimating that she had something of moment tosay, that she could not communicate by letter, but wished I would givemyself the trouble to come up, directing me to come with the coach intoGoodman's Fields, and then walk to her back-door on foot, which beingleft open on purpose, the watchful lady, if she had any spies, could notwell see me.

  My thoughts had for so long time been kept, as it were, waking, thatalmost everything gave me the alarm, and this especially, so that I wasvery uneasy; but I could not bring matters to bear to make my coming toLondon so clear to my husband as I would have done; for he liked theplace, and had a mind, he said, to stay a little longer, if it was notagainst my inclination; so I wrote my friend the Quaker word that Icould not come to town yet; and that, besides, I could not think ofbeing there under spies, and afraid to look out of doors; and so, inshort, I put off going for near a fortnight more.

  At the end of that time she wrote again, in which she told me that shehad not lately seen the impertinent visitor which had been sotroublesome; but that she had seen my trusty agent Amy, who told hershe had cried for six weeks without intermission; that Amy had given heran account how troublesome the creature had been, and to what straitsand perplexities I was driven by her hunting after and following me fromplace to place; upon which Amy had said, that, notwithstanding I wasangry with her, and had used her so hardly for saying something abouther of the same kind, yet there was an absolute necessity of securingher, and removing her out of the way; and that, in short, without askingmy leave, or anybody's leave, she should take care she should troubleher mistress (meaning me) no more; and that after Amy had said so, shehad indeed never heard any more of the girl; so that she supposed Amyhad managed it so well as to put an end to it.

  The innocent, well-meaning creature, my Quaker, who was all kindness andgoodness in herself, and particularly to me, saw nothing in this; butshe thought Amy had found some way to persuade her to be quiet and easy,and to give over teasing and following me, and rejoiced in it for mysake; as she thought nothing of any evil herself, so she suspected nonein anybody else, and was exceeding glad of having such good news towrite to me; but my thoughts of it run otherwise.

  I was struck, as with a blast from heaven, at the reading her letter; Ifell into a fit of trembling from head to foot, and I ran raving aboutthe room like a mad woman. I had nobody to speak a word to, to givevent to my passion; nor did I speak a word for a good while, till afterit had almost overcome me. I threw myself on the bed, and cried out,"Lord, be merciful to me, she has murdered my child!" and with that aflood of tears burst out, and I cried vehemently for above an hour.

  My husband was very happily gone out a-hunting, so that I had theopportunity of being alone, and to give my passions some vent, by whichI a little recovered myself. But after my crying was over, then I fellin a new rage at Amy; I called her a thousand devils and monsters andhard-hearted tigers; I reproached her with her knowing that I abhorredit, and had let her know it sufficiently, in that I had, at it were,kicked her out of doors, after so many years' friendship and service,only for naming it to me.

  Well, after some time, my spouse came in from his sport, and I put onthe best looks I could to deceive him; but he did not take so littlenotice of me as not to see I had been crying, and that somethingtroubled me, and he pressed me to tell him. I seemed to bring it outwith reluctance, but told him my backwardness was more because I wasashamed that such a trifle should have any effect upon me, than for anyweight that was in it; so I told him I had been vexing myself about mywoman Amy's not coming again; that she might have known me better thannot to believe I should have been friends with her again, and the like;and that, in short, I had lost the best servant by my rashness that everwoman had.

  "Well, well," says he, "if that be all your grief, I hope you will soonshake it off; I'll warrant you in a little while we shall hear of Mrs.Amy again." And so it went off for that time. But it did not go off withme; for I was uneasy and terrified to the last degree, and wanted to getsome farther account of the thing. So I went away to my sure and certaincomforter, the Quaker, and there I had the whole story of it; and thegood innocent Quaker gave me joy of my being rid of such an unsufferabletormentor.

  "Rid of her! Ay," says I, "if I was rid of her fairly and honourably;but I don't know what Amy may have done. Sure, she ha'n't made heraway?" "Oh fie!" says my Quaker; "how canst thou entertain such anotion! No, no. Made her away? Amy didn't talk like that; I dare saythou may'st be easy in that; Amy has nothing of that in her head, I daresay," says she; and so threw it, as it were, out of my thoughts.

  But it would not do; it run in my head continually; night and day Icould think of nothing else; and it fixed such a horror of the fact uponmy spirits, and such a detestation of Amy, who I looked upon as themurderer, that, as for her, I believe if I could have seen her I shouldcertainly have sent her to Newgate, or to a worse place, uponsuspicion; indeed, I think I could have killed her with my own hands.

  As for the poor girl herself, she was ever before my eyes; I saw her bynight and by day; she haunted my imagination, if she did not haunt thehouse; my fancy showed me her in a hundred shapes and postures; sleepingor waking, she was with me. Sometimes I thought I saw her with herthroat cut; sometimes with her head cut, and her brains knocked out;other times hanged up upon a beam; another time drowned in the greatpond at Camberwell. And all these appearances were terrifying to thelast degree; and that which was still worse, I could really hear nothingof her; I sent to the captain's wife in Redriff, and she answered me,she was gone to her relations in Spitalfields. I sent thither, and theysaid she was there about three weeks ago, but that she went out in acoach with the gentlewoman that used to be so kind to her, but whithershe
was gone they knew not, for she had not been there since. I sentback the messenger for a description of the woman she went out with; andthey described her so perfectly, that I knew it to be Amy, and none butAmy.

  I sent word again that Mrs. Amy, who she went out with, left her in twoor three hours, and that they should search for her, for I had a reasonto fear she was murdered. This frighted them all intolerably. Theybelieved Amy had carried her to pay her a sum of money, and thatsomebody had watched her after her having received it, and had robbedand murdered her.

  I believed nothing of that part; but I believed, as it was, thatwhatever was done, Amy had done it; and that, in short, Amy had made heraway; and I believed it the more, because Amy came no more near me, butconfirmed her guilt by her absence.

  Upon the whole, I