The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom, Complete - Tobias Smollett
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Never had our hero spent a moment in such agony as he felt during this
operation; the whole surface of his body was covered with a cold sweat,
and his nerves were relaxed with an universal palsy. In short, he
remained in a trance that, in all probability, contributed to his safety;
for, had he retained the use of his senses, he might have been discovered
by the transports of his fear. The first use he made of his retrieved
recollection, was to perceive that the assassins had left the door open
in their retreat; and he would have instantly availed himself of this
their neglect, by sallying out upon them, at the hazard of his life, had
he not been restrained by a conversation he overheard in the room below,
importing, that the ruffians were going to set out upon another
expedition, in hopes of finding more prey. They accordingly departed,
after having laid strong injunctions upon the old woman to keep the door
fast locked during their absence; and Ferdinand took his resolution
without farther delay. So soon as, by his conjecture, the robbers were
at a sufficient distance from the house, he rose from his lurking-place,
moved softly towards the bed, and, rummaging the pockets of the deceased,
found a purse well stored with ducats, of which, together with a silver
watch and a diamond ring, he immediately possessed himself without
scruple; then, descending with great care and circumspection into the
lower apartment, stood before the old beldame, before she had the least
intimation of his approach.
Accustomed as she was to the trade of blood, the hoary hag did not behold
this apparition without giving signs of infinite terror and astonishment,
believing it was no other than the spirit of her second guest, who had
been murdered; she fell upon her knees and began to recommend herself to
the protection of the saints, crossing herself with as much devotion as
if she had been entitled to the particular care and attention of Heaven.
Nor did her anxiety abate, when she was undeceived in this her
supposition, and understood it was no phantom, but the real substance of
the stranger, who, without staying to upbraid her with the enormity of
her crimes, commanded her, on pain of immediate death, to produce his
horse, to which being conducted, he set her upon the saddle without
delay, and, mounting behind, invested her with the management of the
reins, swearing, in a most peremptory tone, that the only chance she had
for her life, was in directing him safely to the next town; and that, so
soon as she should give him the least cause to doubt her fidelity in the
performance of that task, he would on the instant act the part of her
executioner.
This declaration had its effect upon the withered Hecate, who, with many
supplications for mercy and forgiveness, promised to guide him in safety
to a certain village at the distance of two leagues, where he might lodge
in security, and be provided with a fresh horse, or other convenience,
for pursuing his intended route. On these conditions he told her she
might deserve his clemency; and they accordingly took their departure
together, she being placed astride upon the saddle, holding the bridle in
one hand and a switch in the other; and our adventurer sitting on the
crupper, superintending her conduct, and keeping the muzzle of a pistol
close at her ear. In this equipage they travelled across part of the
same wood in which his guide had forsaken him; and it is not to be
supposed that he passed his time in the most agreeable reverie, while he
found himself involved in the labyrinth of those shades, which he
considered as the haunts of robbery and assassination.
Common fear was a comfortable sensation to what he felt in this
excursion. The first steps he had taken for his preservation were the
effects of mere instinct, while his faculties were extinguished or
suppressed by despair; but now, as his reflection began to recur, he was
haunted by the most intolerable apprehensions. Every whisper of the wind
through the thickets was swelled into the hoarse menaces of murder, the
shaking of the boughs was construed into the brandishing of poniards, and
every shadow of a tree became the apparition of a ruffian eager for
blood. In short, at each of these occurrences he felt what was
infinitely more tormenting than the stab of a real dagger; and at every
fresh fillip of his fear, he acted as a remembrancer to his conductress,
in a new volley of imprecations, importing, that her life was absolutely
connected with his opinion of his own safety.
Human nature could not longer subsist under such complicated terror. At
last he found himself clear of the forest, and was blessed with the
distant view of an inhabited place. He then began to exercise his
thoughts upon a new subject. He debated with himself, whether he should
make a parade of his intrepidity and public spirit, by disclosing his
achievement, and surrendering his guide to the penalty of the law; or
leave the old hag and her accomplices to the remorse of their own
consciences, and proceed quietly on his journey to Paris in undisturbed
possession of the prize he had already obtained. This last step he
determined to take, upon recollecting, that, in the course of his
information, the story of the murdered stranger would infallibly attract
the attention of justice, and, in that case, the effects he had borrowed
from the defunct must be refunded for the benefit of those who had a
right to the succession. This was an argument which our adventurer could
not resist; he foresaw that he should be stripped of his acquisition,
which he looked upon as the fair fruits of his valour and sagacity; and,
moreover, be detained as an evidence against the robbers, to the manifest
detriment of his affairs. Perhaps too he had motives of conscience, that
dissuaded him from bearing witness against a set of people whose
principles did not much differ from his own.
Influenced by such considerations, he yielded to the first importunity of
the beldame, whom he dismissed at a very small distance from the village,
after he had earnestly exhorted her to quit such an atrocious course of
life, and atone for her past crimes, by sacrificing her associates to the
demands of justice. She did not fail to vow a perfect reformation, and
to prostrate herself before him for the favour she had found; then she
betook herself to her habitation, with full purpose of advising her
fellow-murderers to repair with all despatch to the village, and impeach
our hero, who, wisely distrusting her professions, stayed no longer in
the place than to hire a guide for the next stage, which brought him to
the city of Chalons-sur-Marne.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HE ARRIVES AT PARIS, AND IS PLEASED WITH HIS RECEPTION.
He was not so smitten with the delightful situation of this ancient town,
but that he abandoned it as soon as he could procure a post-chaise, in
which he arrived at Paris, without having been exposed to any other
troublesome adventure upon the road. He took lodgings at a certain hotel
in the Fauxbourg de St. Germain, which is the general rendezvous of all
the strangers that resort to this capital; and now sincerely
congratulated himself upon his happy escape from his Hungarian
connexions, and from the snares of the banditti, as well as upon the
spoils of the dead body, and his arrival at Paris, from whence there was
such a short conveyance to England, whither he was attracted, by far
other motives than that of filial veneration for his native soil.
He suppressed all his letters of recommendation, which he justly
concluded would subject him to a tedious course of attendance upon the
great, and lay him under the necessity of soliciting preferment in the
army, than which nothing was farther from his inclination; and resolved
to make his appearance in the character of a private gentleman, which
would supply him with opportunities of examining the different scenes of
life in such a gay metropolis, so as that he should be able to choose
that sphere in which he could move the most effectually to his own
advantage. He accordingly hired an occasional domestic, and under the
denomination of Count Fathom, which he had retained since his elopement
from Renaldo, repaired to dinner at an ordinary, to which he was directed
as a reputable place, frequented by fashionable strangers of all nations.
He found this piece of information perfectly just; for he no sooner
entered the apartment, than his ears were saluted with a strange
confusion of sounds, among which he at once distinguished the High and
Low Dutch, barbarous French, Italian, and English languages. He was
rejoiced at this occasion of displaying his own qualifications, took his
place at one of the three long tables, betwixt a Westphalian count and a
Bolognian marquis, insinuated himself into the conversation with his
usual address, and in less than half an hour, found means to accost a
native of each different country in his own mother-tongue.
Such extensive knowledge did not pass unobserved. A French abbe, in a
provincial dialect, complimented him upon his retaining that purity in
pronunciation, which is not to be found in the speech of a Parisian. The
Bolognian, mistaking him for a Tuscan, "Sir," said he, "I presume you are
from Florence. I hope the illustrious house of Lorrain leaves you
gentlemen of that famous city no room to regret the loss of your own
princes." The castle of Versailles becoming the subject of conversation,
Monsieur le Compte appealed to him, as to a native German, whether it was
not inferior in point of magnificence to the chateau of Grubenhagen. The
Dutch officer, addressing himself to Fathom, drank to the prosperity of
Faderland, and asked if he had not once served in garrison at
Shenkenschans; and an English knight swore, with great assurance, that he
had frequently rambled with him at midnight among the hundreds of Drury.
To each person he replied in a polite, though mysterious manner, which
did not fail to enhance their opinion of his good breeding and
importance; and, long before the dessert appeared, he was by all the
company supposed to be a personage of great consequence, who for some
substantial reasons, found it convenient to keep himself incognito. This
being the case, it is not to be doubted that particular civilities were
poured upon him from all quarters. He perceived their sentiments, and
encouraged them, by behaving with that sort of complaisance which seems
to be the result of engaging condescension in a character of superior
dignity and station. His affability was general but his chief attention
limited to those gentlemen already mentioned, who chanced to sit nearest
him at table; and he no sooner gave them to understand that he was an
utter stranger in Paris, than they unanimously begged to have the honour
of making him acquainted with the different curiosities peculiar to that
metropolis.
He accepted of their hospitality, accompanied them to a coffee-house in
the afternoon, from whence they repaired to the opera, and afterwards
adjourned to a noted hotel, in order to spend the remaining part of the
evening. It was here that our hero secured himself effectually in the
footing he had gained in their good graces. He in a moment saw through
all the characters of the party, and adapted himself to the humour of
each individual, without descending from that elevation of behaviour
which he perceived would operate among them in his behalf. With the
Italian he discoursed on music, in the style of a connoisseur; and indeed
had a better claim to that title than the generality of those upon whom
it is usually conferred; for he understood the art in theory as well as
in practice, and would have made no contemptible figure among the best
performers of the age.
He harangued upon taste and genius to the abbe, who was a wit and critic,
ex officio, or rather ex vestitu for a young pert Frenchman, the very
moment he puts on the petit collet, or little band, looks upon himself as
an inspired son of Apollo; and every one of the fraternity thinks it
incumbent upon him to assert the divinity of his mission. In a word, the
abbes are a set of people that bear a strong analogy to the templars in
London. Fools of each fabric, sharpers of all sorts, and dunces of every
degree, profess themselves of both orders. The templar is, generally
speaking, a prig, so is the abbe: both are distinguished by an air of
petulance and self-conceit, which holds a middle rank betwixt the
insolence of a first-rate buck and the learned pride of a supercilious
pedant. The abbe is supposed to be a younger brother in quest of
preferment in the church--the Temple is considered as a receptacle or
seminary for younger sons intended for the bar; but a great number of
each profession turn aside into other paths of life, long before they
reach these proposed goals. An abbe is often metamorphosed into a foot
soldier; a templar sometimes sinks into an attorney's clerk. The galleys
of France abound with abbes; and many templars may be found in our
American plantations; not to mention those who have made a public exit
nearer home. Yet I would not have it thought that my description
includes every individual of those societies. Some of the greatest
scholars, politicians, and wits, that ever Europe produced, have worn the
habit of an abbe; and many of our most noble families in England derive
their honours from those who have studied law in the Temple. The worthy
sons of every community shall always be sacred from my censure and
ridicule; and, while I laugh at the folly of particular members, I can
still honour and revere the institution.
But let us return from this comparison, which some readers may think
impertinent and unseasonable, and observe, that the Westphalian count,
Dutch officer, and English knight, were not excepted from the particular
regard and attention of our adventurer. He pledged the German in every
bumper; flattered the Hollander with compliments upon the industry,
wealth, and policy of the Seven United Provinces; but he reserved his
chief battery for his own countryman, on the supposition that he was, in
all respects, the best adapted for the purposes of a needy gamester.
Him, therefore, he cultivated with extraordinary care and singular
observance; for he soon perceived him to be a humourist, and, from that
circumstance, derived an happy presage of his own success. The baronet's
disposition seemed to be cast in the true English mould. He was sour,
silent, and contemptuous; his very looks indicated a consciousness of
superior wealth; and he never opened his mouth, except to make some dry,
sarcastic, national reflection. Nor was his behaviour free from that air
of suspicion which a man puts on when he believes himself in a crowd of
pick-pockets, whom his caution and vigilance set at defiance. In a word,
though his tongue was silent on the subject, his whole demeanour was
continually saying, "You are all a pack of poor lousy rascals, who have a
design upon my purse. 'Tis true, I could buy your whole generation, but
I won't be bubbled, d'ye see; I am aware of your flattery, and upon my
guard against all your knavish pranks; and I come into your company for
my own amusement only."
Fathom having reconnoitred this peculiarity of temper, instead of
treating him with that assiduous complaisance, which he received from the
other gentlemen of the party, kept aloof from him in the conversation,
with a remarkable shyness of distant civility, and seldom took notice of
what he said, except with a view to contradict him, or retort some of his
satirical observations. This he conceived to be the best method of
acquiring his good opinion; because the Englishman would naturally
conclude he was a person who could have no sinister views upon his
fortune, else he would have chosen quite a different manner of
deportment. Accordingly, the knight seemed to bite at the hook. He
listened to Ferdinand with uncommon regard; he was even heard to commend
his remarks, and at length drank to their better acquaintance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ACQUITS HIMSELF WITH ADDRESS IN A NOCTURNAL RIOT.
The Italian and the abbe were the first who began to grow whimsical under
the influence of the burgundy; and, in the heat of their elevation,
proposed that the company should amuse themselves during the remaining
part of the night, at the house of an obliging dame, who maintained a
troop of fair nymphs for the accommodation of the other sex. The
proposal was approved by all, except the Hollander, whose economy the
wine had not as yet invaded; and, while he retreated soberly to his own
lodgings, the rest of the society adjourned in two coaches to the temple
of love, where they were received by the venerable priestess, a personage
turned of seventy, who seemed to exercise the functions of her calling,
in despite of the most cruel ravages of time; for age had bent her into
the form of a Turkish bow. Her head was agitated by the palsy, like the
leaf of the poplar tree; her hair fell down in scanty parcels, as white
as the driven snow; her face was not simply wrinkled, but ploughed into
innumerable furrows; her jaws could not boast of one remaining tooth; one
eye distilled a large quantity of rheum, by virtue of the fiery edge that
surrounded it; the other was altogether extinguished, and she had lost
her nose in the course of her ministration. The Delphic sibyl was but a
type of this hoary matron, who, by her figure, might have been mistaken
for the consort of Chaos, or mother of Time. Yet there was something
meritorious in her appearance, as it denoted her an indefatigable
minister to the pleasure of mankind, and as it formed an agreeable
contrast with the beauty and youth of the fair damsels that wantoned in
her train. It resembled those discords in music, which, properly
disposed, contribute to the harmony of the whole piece; or those horrible
giants, who, in the world of romance, used to guard the gates of the
castle in which the enchanted damsel was confined.
This Urganda seemed to be aware of her own importance, and perfectly well
acquainted with the human appetite; for she compelled the whole company
to undergo her embrace. Then a lacquey, in magnificent livery, ushered
them into a superb apartment, where they waited some minutes, without
being favoured with the appearance of the ladies, to the manifest
dissatisfaction of the abbe, who, sending for the gouvernante,
reprimanded her severely for her want of politesse. The old lady, who
was by no means a pattern of patience and submission, retorted his
reproaches with great emphasis and vivacity. Her eloquence flowed
altogether in the Covent Garden strain; and I question whether the
celebrated Mother Douglas herself could have made such a figure in an
extemporaneous altercation.
After having bestowed upon the abbe the epithets of saucy insignificant
pimp, she put him in mind of the good offices which he had received at
her hands; how she had supplied him with bed, board, and bedfellow, in
his greatest necessity; sent him abroad with money in his pockets--and,
in a word, cherished him in her bosom, when his own mother had abandoned
him to distress. She then reviled him for presuming to affront her
before strangers, and gave the company to understand, that the young
ladies would wait upon them as soon as they could be confessed and
receive absolution from a worthy cordelier, who was now employed in
performing that charitable office. The gentlemen were satisfied with
this remonstrance, which argued the old lady's pious concern for the
souls that were under her care, and our adventurer proposed an
accommodation betwixt her and the abbe, who was prevailed upon to ask her
pardon, and received her blessing upon his knees.
This affair had not been long adjusted, when five damsels were introduced
in a very gay dishabille, and our hero was complimented with the
privilege of choosing his Amanda from the whole bevy. When he was
provided, the others began to pair themselves, and, unhappily, the German
count chanced to pitch upon the same nymph who had captivated the desires
of the British knight. A dispute immediately ensued; for the Englishman
made his addresses to the lady, without paying the least regard to the
priority of the other's claim; and she, being pleased with his
attachment, did not scruple to renounce his rival, who swore by the
thunder, lightning, and sacrament, that he would not quit his pretensions
for any prince in Christendom, much less for a little English cavalier,
whom he had already honoured too much in condescending to be his
companion.
The knight, provoked at this stately declaration, which was the immediate
effect of anger and ebriety, eyed his antagonist with a most contemptuous
aspect, and advised him to avoid such comparisons for the future. "We
all know," said he, "the importance of a German count; I suppose your
revenue amounts to three hundred rix-dollars; and you have a chateau that
looks like the ruins of an English gaol. I will bind myself to lend you
a thousand pounds upon a mortgage of your estate, (and a bad bargain I am
sure I shall have,) if I do not, in less than two months, find a yeoman
of Kent, who spends more in strong ale than the sum-total of your yearly
income; and, were the truth known, I believe that lace upon your coat is
no better than tinsel, and those fringed ruffles, with fine Holland
sleeves, tacked to a shirt of brown canvas, so that, were you to undress
yourself before the lady, you would only expose your own poverty and
pride."
The count was so much enraged at these sarcastic observations, that his
faculty of speech was overwhelmed by his resentment; though, in order to
acquit himself of the Englishman's imputation, he forthwith pulled off
his clothes with such fury, that his brocade waistcoat was tore from top
to bottom. The knight, mistaking his meaning, considered this demeanour
as a fair challenge, to try which was the better man in the exercise of
boxing; and, on that supposition, began to strip in his turn, when he was
undeceived by Fathom, who put the right interpretation upon the count's
behaviour, and begged that the affair might be compromised. By this time
the Westphalian recovered the use of his tongue, and with many threats
and imprecations, desired they would take notice how falsely he had been
aspersed, and do him justice in espousing his claim to the damsel in
question.
Before the company had time or inclination to interest themselves in the
quarrel, his opponent observed that no person who was not a mere German,
would ever dream of forcing the inclinations of a pretty girl, whom the
accidents of fortune had subjected to his power; that such compulsion was
equivalent to the most cruel rape that could be committed; and that the
lady's aversion was not at all surprising; for, to speak his own
sentiments, were he a woman of pleasure, he would as soon grant favours
to a Westphalian hog, as to the person of his antagonist. The German,
enraged at this comparison, was quite abandoned by his patience and
discretion. He called the knight an English clown, and, swearing he
was the most untoward beast of a whole nation of mules, snatched up one
of the candlesticks, which he launched at him with such force and
violence, that it sung through the air, and, winging its flight into the
ante-chamber, encountered the skull of his own valet, who with immediate
prostration received the message of his master.
The knight, that he might not be behindhand with the Westphalian in point
of courtesy, returned the compliment with the remaining chandelier, which
also missed its mark, and, smiting a large mirror that was fixed behind
them, emitted such a crash as one might expect to hear if a mine were
sprung beneath a manufacture of glass. Both lights being thus
extinguished, a furious combat ensued in the dark; the Italian scampered
off with infinite agility, and, as he went downstairs, desired that
nobody would interpose, because it was an affair of honour, which could
not be made up. The ladies consulted their safety in flight; Count
Fathom slyly retired to one corner of the room; while the abbe, having
upon him the terrors of the commissaire, endeavoured to appease and part
the combatants, and, in the attempt, sustained a random blow upon his
nose, which sent him howling into the other chamber, where, finding his
band besmeared with his own blood, he began to caper about the apartment,
in a transport of rage and vexation.
Meanwhile, the old gentlewoman being alarmed with the noise of the
battle, and apprehensive that it would end in murder, to the danger and
discredit of herself and family, immediately mustered up her myrmidons,
of whom she always retained a formidable band, and, putting herself at
their head, lighted them to the scene of uproar. Ferdinand, who had
hitherto observed a strict neutrality, no sooner perceived them approach,
than he leaped in between the disputants, that he might be found acting
in the character of a peacemaker; and, indeed, by this time, victory
had declared for the baronet, who had treated his antagonist with a
cross-buttock, which laid him almost breathless on the floor. The victor
was prevailed upon, by the entreaties of Fathom, to quit the field of
battle, and adjourn into another room, where, in less than half an hour,
he received a billet from the count, defying him to single combat on the
frontiers of Flanders, at an appointed time and place. The challenge was
immediately accepted by the knight, who, being flushed with conquest,
treated his adversary with great contempt.