6. CHAPTER VI.
In which the mistake of the landlord throws Sophia into a dreadful
consternation
Mrs. Fitzpatrick was proceeding in her narrative, when she was
interrupted by the entrance of dinner, greatly to the concern of
Sophia; for the misfortunes of her friend had raised her anxiety,
and left her no appetite but what Mrs. Fitzpatrick was to satisfy by
her relation.
The landlord now attended with a plate under his arm, and with the
same respect in his countenance and address which he would have put on
had the ladies arrived in a coach and six.
The married lady seemed less affected with her own misfortunes than
was her cousin; for the former eat very heartily, whereas the latter
could hardly swallow a morsel. Sophia likewise showed more concern and
sorrow in her countenance than appeared in the other lady; who, having
observed these symptoms in her friend, begged her to be comforted,
saying, "Perhaps all may yet end better than either you or I expect."
Our landlord thought he had now an opportunity to open his mouth,
and was resolved not to omit it. "I am sorry, madam," cries he,
"that your ladyship can't eat; for to be sure you must be hungry after
so long fasting. I hope your ladyship is not uneasy at anything,
for, as madam there says, all may end better than anybody expects. A
gentleman who was here just now brought excellent news; and perhaps
some folks who have given other folks the slip may get to London
before they are overtaken; and if they do, I make no doubt but they
will find people who will be very ready to receive them."
All persons under the apprehension of danger convert whatever they
see and hear into the objects of that apprehension. Sophia therefore
immediately concluded, from the foregoing speech, that she was
known, and pursued by her father. She was now struck with the utmost
consternation, and for a few minutes deprived of the power of
speech; which she no sooner recovered, than she desired the landlord
to send his servants out of the room, and then, addressing herself
to him, said, "I perceive, sir, you know who we are; but I beseech
you- nay, I am convinced, if you have any compassion or goodness, you
will not betray us."
"I betray your ladyship!" quoth the landlord; "no (and then he swore
several very hearty oaths); I would sooner be cut into ten thousand
pieces. I hate all treachery. I! I never betrayed any one in my life
yet, and I am sure I shall not begin with so sweet a lady as your
ladyship. All the world would very much blame me if I should, since it
will be in your ladyship's power so shortly to reward me. My wife
can witness for me, I knew your ladyship the moment you came into
the house: I said it was your honour, before I lifted you from your
horse, and I shall carry the bruises I got in your ladyship's
service to the grave; but what signified that, as long as I saved your
ladyship? To be sure some people this morning would have thought of
getting a reward; but no such thought ever entered into my head. I
would sooner starve than take any reward for betraying your ladyship."
"I promise you, sir," says Sophia, "if it be ever in my power to
reward you, you shall not lose by your generosity."
"Alack-a-day, madam!" answered the landlord; "in your ladyship's
power! Heaven put it as much into your will! I am only afraid your
honour will forget such a poor man as an innkeeper; but, if your
ladyship should not, I hope you will remember what reward I
refused- refused! that is, I would have refused, and to be sure it
may be called refusing, for I might have had it certainly; and to be
sure you might have been in some houses;- but, for my part, I would
not, methinks, for the world have your ladyship wrong me so much as to
imagine I ever thought of betraying you, even before I heard the
good news."
"What news, pray?" says Sophia, something eagerly.
"Hath not your ladyship heard it, then?" cries the landlord; "nay,
like enough, for I heard it only a few minutes ago; and if I had never
heard it, may the devil fly away with me this instant if I would
have betrayed your honour! no, if I would, may I-" Here he subjoined
several dreadful imprecations, which Sophia at last interrupted, and
begged to know what he meant by the news.- He was going to answer,
when Mrs. Honour came running into the room, all pale and breathless,
and cried out, "Madam, we are all undone, all ruined, they are come,
they are come!" These words almost froze up the blood of Sophia; but
Mrs. Fitzpatrick asked Honour who were come? "Who?" answered she,
"why, the French; several hundred thousands of them are landed, and we
shall be all murdered and ravished."
As a miser, who hath, in some well-built city, a cottage, value
twenty shillings, when at a distance he is alarmed with the news of
a fire, turns pale and trembles at his loss; but when he finds the
beautiful palaces only are burnt, and his own cottage remains safe, he
comes instantly to himself, and smiles at his good fortunes: or as
(for we dislike something in the former simile) the tender mother,
when terrified with the apprehension that her darling boy is
drowned, is struck senseless and almost dead with consternation; but
when she is told that little master is safe, and the Victory only,
with twelve hundred brave men, gone to the bottom, life and sense
again return, maternal fondness enjoys the sudden relief from all
its fears, and the general benevolence which at another time would
have deeply felt the dreadful catastrophe, lies fast asleep in her
mind; so Sophia, than whom none was more capable of tenderly feeling
the general calamity of her country, found such immediate satisfaction
from the relief of those terrors she had of being overtaken by her
father, that the arrival of the French scarce made any impression on
her. She gently chid her maid for the fright into which she had thrown
her, and said "she was glad it was no worse; for that she had feared
somebody else was come."
"Ay, ay," quoth the landlord, smiling, "her ladyship knows better
things; she knows the French are our very best friends, and come
over hither only for our good. They are the people who are to make Old
England flourish again. I warrant her honour thought the duke was
coming; and that was enough to put her into a fright. I was going to
tell your ladyship the news.- His honour's majesty, Heaven bless him,
hath given the duke the slip, and is marching as fast as he can to
London, and ten thousand French are landed to join him on the road."
Sophia was not greatly pleased with this news, nor with the
gentleman who related it; but, as she still imagined he knew her
(for she could not possibly have any suspicion of the real truth), she
durst not show any dislike. And now the landlord, having removed the
cloth from the table, withdrew; but at his departure frequently
repeated his hopes of being remembered hereafter.
The mind of Sophia was not at all easy under the supposition of
being known at this house; for she still applied to herself many
things which the landlord had addressed to Jenny Cameron; she
therefore ordered her maid to pump out of him by what means he had
become acquainted with her person, and who had offered him the
reward for betraying her; she likewise ordered the horses to be in
readiness by four in the morning, at which hour Mrs. Fitzpatrick
promised to bear her company; and then, composing herself as well as
she could, she desired that lady to continue her story.