By these attacks on me, Glibly therefore, for they were undoubtedly a part of his handy-work, Glibly, I say, had a three-fold motive.

He indulged a propensity, which strange to say he had acquired, of wounding in the dark, that he might smile and shake hands with the insulted person in broad day; he answered the end for which ministry retained him, that of decrying all its antagonists; and he particularly forwarded the views of another of his dear friends, the Earl.

The general complexion of paragraphs like these is falsehood; which is sometimes direct, though it is more commonly a perversion of existing facts. The pamphlet I had written, which had been partially made known to the public by the advertis.e.m.e.nt that had appeared, the patronage of Sir Barnard, my ambitious views on the Mowbray family, with such other particulars as the indefatigable Glibly could collect, sometimes delivered in obscure allusions and at others more openly, were the topics of calumny. How many of these ingenious devices to irritate and injure were framed I never knew: for I seldom read them myself, though I heard of them sufficiently often to be a.s.sured that they were numerous.

There were various means by which they might have been stopped; and of which, in ordinary cases bribing is chiefly practised: but in this instance fighting, or the law, would have been more effectual. Of these however I totally disapproved. Defamation is an evil: but death is generally and perhaps always a greater; and to prevent enquiry is among the worst of evils. I was not yet sufficiently acquainted, however, with the mistakes to which men are subject, or rather impelled by the inst.i.tutions they admire, not to feel great surprise and some indignation at the obstacles which I found were continually to impede my career. He who has never travelled into the country of Mosquitoes is not aware how slight a net-work covering will preserve him from their sting.

These were trifles, and would have been unworthy of notice had they not resembled the small cloudy speck, which, though scarcely visible in the distant horizon, approaches, and swells, and bursts over the head in a storm. The beginning contest between the Earl and the Mowbray family, the interest which the worthy Mr. Glibly had thought proper to take in me and my affairs, the patriotism of Sir Barnard, nay the friendship of Mr. Evelyn himself, that best of men, were but so many links in the chain of that fate which was impending.

At present, however, with respect to the Baronet, I daily increased in favour. He frequently requested me to accompany him when he went down to the house; and paraded with me, arm in arm, through the avenues: catching every man he knew by the b.u.t.ton, and introducing me; then descanting on the news of the day, the victories of the minister among his creatures and in the house, and the defeats of his projects every where else.

At length it was generally affirmed and believed that parliament would be dissolved in a fortnight; and, as Sir Barnard wished to keep well with his borough, he proposed that we should go down and visit the worthy and independent electors: among whom he observed we might spend a few days in a pleasant manner, and advantageously to his interest, till the writ of election should be issued. This was on the Wednesday: but, as there was to be a debate and probably a division of the house on Friday, his sense of public duty would not permit him to be absent on such an occasion, and we agreed to defer our journey till Sat.u.r.day morning.

During this short interval an incident occurred, which it is necessary I should relate. It happened on the Thursday that, after spending the day near Richmond, where I had been invited to dine, I was returning home on horseback, followed by my servant: for I thought myself obliged to practise some part of that aristocracy which I nevertheless very sincerely condemned.

The night was starlight; and, as we were cantering down a lane at the entrance of Barnes common, we heard distant cries and the report of a pistol, in the direction as we believed in which we were proceeding.

I immediately stopped, and listened very attentively: but all was soon silent. Being convinced as well by the cries as the firing of the pistol that a robbery, if not something worse, had been committed, and not certainly knowing from what point the sound came, I rode gently forward and continued to listen with the utmost attention: desiring my servant to do the same.

We rode on, still walking our horses and looking cautiously round for some time, without any sight or sound of man approaching us, till we came to a gate at the edge of the common. Here I saw a horse standing patiently, without his rider; and stopping once more to look and listen, I presently perceived an indistinct object: which I discovered to be a man; wounded and weltering in his blood.

I spoke to him: but no answer was returned, nor any sound. I then raised the body in my arms, and it appeared to be lifeless.

What was to be done? A human being, who might be dead or might not, in either case, must not be left in such a situation.

The neighbourhood is populous, and I could distinguish lights at no very great distance. Fearing lest, if I sent my servant he should blunder, or that the persons he might address himself to would be less likely to pay attention to him than to me, I bade him remain by the dead or wounded man; and, mounting my horse, I rode away immediately to procure aid.

My direction was across the common; and fortunately I met with a carriage, which proved to be a hackney coach returning to town with two pa.s.sengers. I ordered the coachman to stop, and he immediately supposed I was a highwayman: but, being undeceived, he refused to go out of his way for the purpose I required.

The persons within, hearing a kind of squabble, and understanding when they listened the nature of it, spoke to me; and enquired into the particulars. By good luck, they happened to feel properly, and joined me against the coachman; who, though unwillingly, was obliged to submit; and, when he came to the point where the roads join, to turn back and receive the wounded man into the carriage. The pa.s.sengers alighted, I ordered my man to take the horse of the stranger in charge, and we proceeded slowly to the first inn.

Here I immediately enquired for surgical and medical a.s.sistance; and, as the people of these villages are many of them opulent, good pract.i.tioners were presently procured.

While the messengers were dispatched, I had leisure to examine the stranger; whose appearance, figure, and countenance, were altogether extremely interesting. His hair was abundant, but milk white, his features were serene, and his form in despite of age was still manly.

The benevolence of his countenance was heightened by the blood with which his locks were in part clotted, and that had streamed over his face upon his clothes and linen.

The medical gentlemen arrived nearly at the same time, the stranger was examined, the pulsation of the heart was perceptible, and, though the contusions on the head and the temple were violent, and he had been shot in the shoulder, so that the ball had pa.s.sed through behind, they were of opinion, as there was no fracture of the skull, that the wounds were not mortal. The appearance of the stranger, and the condition in which I found him, had made a lively impression upon me. I was fearful of leaving him, in an unknown place, amidst the casualties and hurry of an inn, to the care of waiters, and the neglect of persons who had scarcely leisure to be humane. I therefore determined to send my servant to town, and stay with him that night. I had an appointment and other business in the morning; but I could be at London in less than an hour: that was therefore no obstacle.

Hoping to have discovered his place of abode, I desired his pockets to be searched before the people present: but they were entirely emptied; and contained no paper, or memorandum, that could afford information.

After some time, by the aid which was procured, his pulse began to quicken, and his lungs to do their office; and, that nothing might be omitted, I prevailed on the physician to remain with me at his bed-side, and attend to every symptom, above half the night. With this he the more willingly complied because he was apprehensive of fever, when the circulation should recover all its elasticity.

In the morning, though very unwillingly, I was obliged to forsake my charge: but not till I had left money with the physician, who made himself accountable to the innkeeper for all expences. Being a humane person, I believe he would have done this without my interference. But in addition to that every mark about the stranger, his look, his dress and the horse on which he was mounted, denoted him to be a gentleman; and when I left him, though the physician thought it was probable he might not recover the use of his understanding and the power of speech for a day or two, he yet was persuaded that he would not die.

CHAPTER IV

_An incident in the park, or the danger of unruly dogs and horses: The fort.i.tude and affection of Olivia: A visit to the wounded stranger_

Knowing the habits of Sir Barnard to be precise, and pettish, so that if I counteracted the arrangement he had made it would put him into a disagreeable temper, I resolved, as we were to depart early the next morning, to return as soon as possible to the stranger. About two in the afternoon, I was riding through the park for this purpose: and here another incident occurred; which, though it excited extreme terror, it afterward afforded uncommon delight.

A few days before, I had witnessed a lady on a run-away horse, who was seized with fright, dropped from the saddle, and bruised herself exceedingly. She would have been in no danger, if she had behaved but with the ordinary resolution of a man; and the accident led me to reflect on the ill education to which women are subjected. They seem to be esteemed by men in proportion as they are helpless, timid, and dependent. It is supposed they cannot be affectionate unless their leading feature be imbecility.

Just as I had crossed the bridge over the Serpentine river, two ladies and a gentleman with their grooms, all on horseback, were turning round; and went off in a hand gallop toward Kensington gardens. I was riding fast, at no great distance; and perceived it to be Olivia, her aunt, and some person whom I did not know. Olivia was mounted on a fine blood horse; and a large dog rushed by him in pursuit of me, being tempted by my fast galloping.

The horse of Olivia had previously been put upon his mettle. I saw the danger, and instantly pulled up: but he began to plunge, and kick, in a manner that would have unhorsed most men. The dog then turned from me, and attacked the animal that was highest in motion; and the horse immediately set off full speed. The foolish servant, being frightened, began to gallop after her. I was obliged to do the same, and stop him: for the clattering of feet behind did but increase the fury of the runaway horse.

Terrified however as I was, when I first noticed the vicious propensities of the horse, the courage of Olivia was such, her seat was so firm, and she kept so steady a hold of the strong curb rein, that I felt a confidence she would overpower the horse; if the fear and folly of some other person should do no mischief. I therefore followed at a proper distance; and, when I saw several hors.e.m.e.n who attempted to cross her, I shouted and waved my hat for them to keep off.

My hopes were justified. She avoided every danger, by her management and presence of mind; and, by her use of the curb and the aid of the wall at the end of the ride, arrested the course of the intemperate animal.

Having kept the grooms back, I was the first that came up with her; and, leaping from my saddle, I seized the reins and held them till the servant arrived. I then enjoyed one more rapturous moment, such as I had indeed but little foreseen: I received her in my arms.

Not a minute before, how firm and collected had her mind and actions been: but no sooner did she feel my embrace than her frame was suffused. A thousand ideas, that had no relation to the danger which her own fort.i.tude had escaped, immediately rushed upon her; she sunk upon my shoulder, and burst into a flood of tears. They were the heart casings of ten thousand of the foregone anxieties of love.

How could I have hated the broad day, and the prying eyes that were upon us! How welcome would the fogs and darkness of Cranford-bridge have been! My adventurous spirit would then have surely imprinted the first kiss of love! as chaste as it would have been ecstatic.

This bliss, alas, was not to be. The crowd approached. I pressed her hand, and, as an a.s.surance of fidelity, she gently returned the token of kindness. Such mute signs being all that were permitted.

Perceiving I must leave her, I again requested she would not mount the unruly horse; and she replied, with a heavenly smile, 'Have no fear for me. I will be careful of myself;' to which she added in a low whisper: 'for my preserver's sake!'

Oh moments of unutterable bliss! Who can estimate your worth? One of you will outweigh a life, such as the dull round of common place nothings can yield.

Did not my eyes thank her? Did not the strong workings of my colour and countenance inform her of what was pa.s.sing within? Oh yes! And in the same language she involuntarily replied. He who shall suppose there was one emotion which celestial purity might not approve cannot comprehend Olivia. They were emanations such as those only who have souls, as well as bodies, are acquainted with.

The tide of ecstacy must turn. The aunt came up, I bowed, she returned my salute in a manner that shewed her mind was affected by contradictory emotions, and I mounted my horse and guided his head toward the Park gate; through which I pa.s.sed; feeling, at the moment, that I was pa.s.sing the gate of paradise.

I had not however left all my heaven behind me. No: I bore with me ample stores for delicious revery. The fort.i.tude of Olivia, the firm and easy grace with which she kept her seat, her admirable management and quick presence of mind, her unabating courage at one moment, and her melting tenderness at the next, were not the food but the feast of love.

In this revelry of the imagination I indulged, till I arrived at the inn; where I found the physician, agreeable to appointment; and was informed by him that the stranger still continued insensible: but that the symptoms appeared to be rather more than less favourable.

I remained with the patient during some hours, till the necessary preparation for my journey obliged me to depart. I then left a sufficient sum with the physician; and, after most earnestly recommending the stranger to his care, reluctantly returned to town.

Though I had obtained a promise, from the physician, that the patient should be removed to his own home, as soon as it should be discovered, or to the house of the physician, whenever it might be done without danger, I yet could not help questioning whether to leave him to the mercy of persons, with whom I was unacquainted, that I might take a journey to visit the free and independent electors of an English borough, were faithfully to fulfill the duties of humanity. Add to which the venerable and benevolent appearance of the stranger was so uncommonly interesting that it made a strong impression upon my imagination.

But it was necessary to decide, and I acted as mortals are obliged to do on such occasions: not knowing what was best, I adopted that which appeared to be the most urgent.

CHAPTER V

_The journey to the borough of the Baronet: Independent electors, and their motives satisfactorily explained: Evil communication corrupts good manners: Electors eager to make hay while the sun shines, and being once bought wish again to be bribed_

The following morning at the hour appointed, Sir Barnard and I set off for the borough of ****: at which we arrived without delay or accident.